The Things Raven Feels
by Tabris Macbeth
Summary: Because I felt like it.
1. Shower

The Things Raven Feels

by Tabris Macbeth

rated PG

disclaimer: In the end, there will nothing but infinite and eternal darkness. Even then I won't Teen Titans.

* * *

Shower

I close my eyes as feel the hot water washing away whatever biological goo I was unwillingly baptised in earlier. I shudder to think about _what_- exactly- it was, and as it swirls down the drain, I'm content with my ignorance.

If only all my problems could be so easily washed away.

More than any other place, I feel most secure in the shower. My friends fret when I lock myself away in my room, but no one thinks anything of tucking myself away in the shower. It's just socially unacceptable to disturb a girl in the shower. For once, me and society can see eye-to-eye on something.

As I let the water cascade down my back, I open my eyes and unwittingly do something I'm not to terribly fond of doing: I look at my body. It's...strange, to say the least. It's not that I think of myself as a horribly unattractive little wafe no one could possibly find attractive, but...sweet Azar above, I'm small. I have such a petite frame. Starfire must have a foot or so on me.

I feel far older than I am, and I look a few years younger than I am. With my cloak on, I can at least create the illusion of being something more than a delicate little thing I'm looking at, all wet and naked. But this delicate little thing squirming around in her own skin is, strangely enough, me. I wrap myself in darkness, I know all too well that I'm a harbinger of destruction, and yet there's _this_ absurdity. Dark, accursed me is a danty little wisp of a girl. I can only imagine how ridiculous I must look to the other Titans. I read books beyond the comprehension of most adults, yet I have to get on my tiptoes to reach anything on the middle shelves in the kitchen. It's utter absurdity that this pitifully small, frail looking creature is supposed to bring about so much suffering and destruction.

It's too absurd.

I reach for the shampoo. Strawberry scented. It's Starfire's, but she doesn't mind. She's all too happy to share it with me. Truth be told...it does smell nice...

As I lather my hair, I glance down. Even though I'm the only one who can see myself, I blush.

I suppose not all of me is that small.

There are subjects I prefer to avoid for one reason or another, such as anything with myself as the topic. Of all those things, those sacred, profane, forbidden things...

I hug my chest. I don't know if it's to cover myself from unseen eyes, or if it's out of perverted curiousity to know what my cleavage would look like if I lowered myself to the point where I would actually wear something that revealed cleavage. Then again, as someone who wears a skin tight, leg-exposing leotard, maybe I'm not one to talk...

Honestly, for the life of me, I cannot understand the obsession women have with having large breasts. Starfire once watched a show on plastic surgery, and when she asked me why women get breast implants, I could only shrug. She then asked my opinion of her breasts, and...that, obviously, lead to a rather uncomfortable conversation I would rather put out of my mind at the moment.

People can be shamefully narcissistic and shallow at times, but I seriously fear for my generation. When women- or girls, appropriately denoting less maturity in this case- of eighteen and nineteen years are getting breast implants to boost their self esteem, it's a rather disturbing state of affairs. How damaged must your psyche be for you to come to the conclusion that who you are is reflected by your breast size? It's disgusting- and even a little scary- that our society has become so obsessed with sex.

I wash the shampoo from my hair, water flowing down my violet locks. My head leans forward to cleanse the back of my head, and...I look downward...

Past my chest...

I try not to think about it. Yet, I'm still human, and the thought quietly nudges my psyche and winks suggestively.

It's rather pointless for me, of all people, to be thinking about anything relating to a romantic relationship. In fact, it sends a shiver up my spine. Someone other than me looking at this wisp of a girl, in all her nakedness. I'm very uncomfortable with the idea of being so vulnerable. My flawed little body exposed to someone else.

When I first learned of the circumstances of my birth, I dressed in layers. Many, many layers. It wasn't long before it became too uncomfortable, so I adopted the habit of putting up my hood and wrapping my cloak tight around me. I knew better, but I felt more secure. Not necessarily safer, but more secure. No one would find me attractive, so no one would want to touch me. When I was in Azarath, I was so adamant in never letting anyone touch me. That, at least, I had some control over. But...I supposed even I must admit that just because something is pointless doesn't mean it shouldn't be pursued.

Dare I say it?

I want to be touched.

I reach for the shampoo, but suddenly remember I want the conditioner. It seems more and more nowadays, I forget whether or not I've used the shampoo. I also seem to be taking a lot more showers than I used to. Well, it's not as if you can accumulate that much filth and grime from staying in your room all day.

That previous thought hasn't left my head. Maybe that's why I'm getting forgetful in the shower. I'm naked here, being cleansed and washing everything away.

Almost everything.

I want to be touched. I want someone to wrap their arms around my cold, frail little body. Maybe that's why I hugged my chest earlier. To pretend those were someone else's arms. And then I think to myself...

I bite my lip. As much as I try to just push it down with everything else I feel, curiousity keeps bubbling to the surface. What would that be like? As much as I try to keep my mind as pure as someone like me can possibly make their mindstate resemble anything close to "purity", names and pictures still tend to flash momentarily.

I remember when Beast Boy introduced me to the ever disturbing world of fanfiction. A world populated by misshapen word golems and rampant plagarism. I shudder at how many people made me romantically involved with Beast Boy. I've never seen Beast Boy in the nude, and I pray to any deity that will listen that I will never have to.

Me and Robin...that doesn't make me physically ill. He's certainly a handsome young man. Strong, just, admirable, but not without his flaws.

Me and Cyborg? He's like a big brother. Or at times, a rather large little brother. In any case...anyone wanting to be romantically involved with him...things are bound to be very, very complicated...

Me and Starfire. This one shouldn't have surprised me, but I was still taken aback that someone had been this...creative. I was firmly sobered up by Beast Boy looking over my shoulder, pointing at the screen, and going "Dude! Lesbian boobies!". Starfire...she's an alien. That's a whole other psychological package that I'm not touching at the moment.

Me and Terra. As I recall, I only found one story that involved Terra and myself...being intimate. That shocks me. It spared me from images of her using her geokinesis on me in perversely creative ways, at least. But as I looked around, I saw why Terra had so easily turned against us, and I felt ashamed of every bad thing I said to her. I'm also left wondering why the masses don't treat me with the same hatred. I certainly do more to earn it than some poor, skinny homeless girl...

The first romantic fanfiction I dared touch was an interesting one. It wasn't about me getting romantically involved with any of my teammates- and for that alone, the author has my thanks- but about...Jinx, of all people. And I have to say, it wasn't half bad. I found it interesting that someone in this world- a total stranger who I will likely never meet- actually...got me, for lack of a better way of putting it. Thanks to that story, I can't think about Jinx without my mind wandering to candy and having a girl talk session with her over tea and...whatever Starbucks calls coffee, but it was interesting. It gave me a small spark of hope, like that brave little light that shone in Pandora's box after all the evils within were unleashed. Maybe the professional thief and mercenary Jinx really isn't that bad a person. Maybe I actually am capable of letting someone close enough to touch me. And maybe...

Maybe there is someone out there that I want to let that close.

I reach for the shampoo again. I put it back just as I open the bottle.

I'm still biting my lip. I could indulge that fantasy. I could finally give in to curiousity. I could try to push aside those thoughts of Jinx, calm myself, and...

I take a deep breath. That urge goes down the drain with the conditioner in my hair. I've been in here for over fifteen minutes. I suppose I should let the others have use of the bathroom.

I turn the faucets. The warmth and sound that had envolped me quickly fades away.

I wipe the fog away from the mirror. The wisp of a girl looking back is all too eager to retreat to the security of dry, clean clothes and a good book.

Here's looking at you, kid.


	2. Fanboy

Fanboy

No. Can't be. It isn't...

It is. It's her. She right over there, with the rest of the Titans.

Isn't she psychic? Oh hell, she's reading my thoughts, isn't she! Well, okay, maybe not. Kinda doubt she just goes around hopping into random minds. Okay, lad, you're probably free to romp around in the dark, depraved recesses of my mind.

Sweet lord, she's a specimen of beauty. And...and her hood's down! Hehe! I love it when her hood's down! Her hair...are raven's tail feathers...no, different shape. Her hair is nice, though. It's cute. A little sugar lacing an otherwise bitter pill. And there's that cute little errant strand of hair. Gives her a bit more character. Makes her a little more distinct.

I gotta wonder what she's thinking about. Contemplating her existence? Trying to find meaning in a dream she had? Trying to figure out why people do the stupid things they do? Why her enemies are her enemies and her friends are her friends? Maybe-

Crap! Crap, crap, crap! Seven shades of monkey crap! Did she glance over here! No. She didn't. Seriously, dude, calm the freak down. You're just a quiet little man, out with your less quiet little friends. You're not a stalker or anything. She isn't gonna think anything of me even if she did glance my way.

Right? Oh God, please say I'm right.

I wonder if she ever read...those stories I wrote. Y'know, she strikes me as the book type, so...but Beast Boy could of showed her. Maybe Cyborg. Well...hey, no worries, right? I've got my alias to hide behind. And besides, even if she did read _those_ paticular stories, would she really be offended? I mean, they're not graphic or anything. Not even that one that technically might qualify as softcore porn! Yeah! It's not like those were the works of some hormonally crazed kid! It's romance, damnit! Yeah! Way to justify your unhealthy fixation, man! Good job!

Hey...if she did read them...oh, who are kidding? Well...hey. You need to embrace the absurd sometimes. Lord knows I wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't. So, if she did read them...what would she think? What sort of ideas would they plant in her mind? Fleeting flashes of the imagery that the story paints? Something deeper, maybe? Would I get her thinking about something? Would I actually touch her life somehow?

Hmm. What if she wrote a review? Would she be herself? Just come out and say "I'm Raven of the Teen Titans! Here's a review written by me, Raven of the Teen Titans!"? Would she use an alias? Though now I gotta wonder, who is she? Is there a part of her no one else sees? I wonder if deep down, there's a giggling fangirl who obsessively reads over-

Oh, c'mon, man! Quit with the flights of fancy! She's a super hero- heroine, actually, as I'm sure she'd correct me on that- and you're a mere mortal. Enthesis on the word "mortal". Or maybe "mere". I don't know whether I want to focus on my mortality or my quiet, unremarkable place in existence. Either way, she isn't going to look my way, much less...make any sort of interaction with me. She's a freakin' rockstar and me...I probably just look like some obessive fanboy. I must look like such a loser. She probably thinks I sat here on purpose just so I can watch her while I secretly play with...oh no...oh God, no...

I typed up this heartfelt little...three or four page letter that I thought about giving to Raven someday in the distant future...like never. I went on about how she inspired me, gave me hope, all that jazz. In the end, I was too embaressed to send it. Swear to God, it looked like the rantings of a stalker! Only stalkers talk that much, right? I meant every word of it with my very heart, but that doesn't change the fact it looks like it's dressed in fanboy's clothing. It was something I had to get out, though.

It disappeared recently.

Out of the blue, I ask Col about that letter. She giggles and says how sweet it was. Then she blushes and giggles some more as she realizes I never showed it to her.

Then Kris joins in.

Oh lord. They didn't. Please, girls, for the love of everything holy...

And then they realize Raven's just over there. Col encourages me to try to spark a conversation between giggles. Kris grins slyly and pokes with her straw, as if prodding me out of my seat will magically give me the courage to make an ass out of myself.

I hang my head and accept my lot in life as the girls give me a lector on "carpe diem". Seizing the day's one thing, ladies. Seizing those that we admire and respect so much...yeah, good luck even touching them. What would happen, anyway? I'd just make a royal jackass out of myself. She's un-freaking-touchable. She'd never talk to me.

Maybe it's just my psychosis talking...or maybe the giant rabbit only I can see and hear, who whispers dark secrets in my ear...but I keep drawing parallels between me and Raven. Both quiet, both shut-ins, both have a dark sense of aesthetics, both...

Alone?

Well, no. The word isn't right. Not entirely. We have our friends, of course, but...where am I going with this? I don't know her. I'm not a Titan. Maybe we should hold off on the fatalistic thinking, huh, kiddo? But...we have that same unbreakable cool. Well, okay, that's a freakin' lie. Wasn't I just blushing a moment ago? Well, under certain circumstances, that coolness evaporates rather quickly...but away from my friends, away from my fans...that coolness. Some...sense of awareness? Like looking at life from the window of your room. From where you sit, you can see everything playing out. You've figured out the puzzle long before they find the first piece. You've figured out who's gonna win before they even start the game. The glass of your window and the lock on your door provide the safeguards you need. It keeps you inside, but that's alright. Your kept pure, clean, untouchable...

Untouchable, huh? Heh. Funny how life works, sometimes.

For some reason, I'm feeling a little better.

"Hey, Josh? Your zoning out again."

"That's because he's thinking about Raven! So close, and yet, so far away!"

"Yeah, yeah!" I smile, "Let's cut outta here. There's this one show I wanna catch."

"What's it about?"

"Something about this mute swordsman guy."

"Weird."

"Yeah. Good stuff, though."

I laugh a little. Like the cosmos just let me in on some inside joke and deep down, I get it.

Oh yeah. I'm a certified, grade A loonie.

I watch him leave. I know he's been stealing glances at me for a while. That's not anything new. Even dark, bitter little me has her admirers. I suppose no matter how messed up you are, there's actually is someone in this world lacking in enough common sense to love you.

Maybe that's why I feel weird. I'd rather those that admirer me do something a bit more productive with there lives. Something other than write absurdly voluminous stories with equally absurd plots. I live a little less so these people can live a little more. I try to give them normal lives, but sometimes, they make me want to wring their collective neck and scream "Act normal, damnit!".

But that's absurd, isn't it? Just as absurd as silly little stories, and just as absurd as that young man who lingered in my head as we drove home, as I stared up into the indigo sky.

I've felt the admirations of many a man. A few women, too. That one, though, that young man back at the pizza parlor...

I can't really say what he was feeling. Not that it was anything foreign to me, but rather, it was like an animal darting around too quickly to get a good view of. Something too free to stay in any one state for too long. It always had to move, to change, to grow.

Dare I say that I feel some admiration for him? For this small creature that knows a kind of freedom I can only dream of? I wonder if the desire to write obsessively about this creature will ever arise. Thinking about him only causes me to think more about him. The more I think about him, the more I admire him. A silly, willful little creature that perhaps knows nothing of his impending mortality, or maybe is just too accepting to let it get to him.

Ever so softly, I laugh. I had no intention to look for this, but I think I understand how our fans must feel now. It's funny how life works, sometimes.

I turn my attention to a small pile of fanmail that- as of yet- has been lucky enough not to be disposed of. I pluck up the topmost envolope and note the graceful pink writing. Most likely a girl. There's a very good chance this one won't make me physically ill.

"Four pages." I drone, "Someone needs a hobby."

I raise an eyebrow as I read. The handwriting of the letter is distinctly different. Unsteady, nervous. And yet, deep down...

Ever so slightly, I smile.

I'm looking too much into this.


	3. Silent

Silent

I hear the sound of footsteps on tile. The sound of static gets louder and louder, accompanied by sounds nothing natural could make.

Then Beast Boy screams.

"Oh, c'mon, Raven! That didn't scare you?"

I look up from my book.

"Sorry. I was reading."

"In the dark?"

"That's why I have a flashlight."

Beast Boy unpauses his game. I see a female character wander around in what looks like a dilapitated shop, old manniquin parts laying astrewn on the floor along side...

"What _are_ those things?"

"Numb bodies. They attack by slamming into you."

The woman- who it seems Beast Boy controls- wanders out into a hall. I'm guessing this filthy, derelict place is a mall or department store of some sort, but those gurneys with the dead bodies on them make me wonder otherwise.

Azar above, what kind of game is this?

"Huh. I didn't think-"

I almost jump as the woman is attacked by a bandaged dog, it's head splitting open to gnaw on the protagonist's leg. She hits it again and again with a rusty pipe, then gives it a couple kicks when it finally falls, blood pooling around the body.

I raise an eyebrow.

"Think I was kidding when I told you it was dark?"

Beast Boy's voice is a little shaky. I want to laugh at him for being scared of a game, but from what little I've seen, maybe he has valid reason for his fear.

"Ah, dude! I hate this part!"

The woman's now in what looks like a very normal resturaunt. The reddish lighting unnerves me a little, but it all seems normal enough. But then she walks over to a table with the biggest, ugliest roasted pig I've ever seen resting on it.

With much hesitation, Beast Boy hits a button, making her examine it.

As I read the following text, I really wish he didn't do that.

"That's a dog!"

Beast Boy suddenly looks a few shades greener.

"Oh man! I...I can't do this! You take over, Raven!"

He leaps over the couch, tossing me the controller as he makes a mad dash for the bathroom.

Maybe it's out of morbid curiousity, but I push the same button Beast Boy did, advancing the text.

Seems I've found a key in a rather...stomache churning place. And- much to my surprise- my avatar on the screen expresses that she's just as grossed out as I am.

I grip the controller. This place seems safe enough to practice, so I push random buttons. I hit the corpse of the poor dog by accident. Then I find myself in an inventory screen. With some fumbling, I think I have a handle on what I'm doing.

I browse through what's available, then arm myself with the pistol. After examining the bulletproof vest, I forgoe putting it on. I have the distinct feeling I'd rather run than fight.

I look through the health restoration items and ammunition. When the woman comments on how the jerky is meant for dogs, that mummified hellhound comes to mind. I equip it and hope I'll find the "befriend undead splitting head dog" button when the time comes.

I'm feeling fairly confident at this point, so I step out. The dead dog's still there, still dead. As I walk through it's blood, I notice the bloody bootprints my character is making.

"Interesting amount of detail in this game."

No one responds. I was talking to myself, of course, so I wasn't really expecting a response. But this music...it disturbs me, somehow. It almost makes me with Beast Boy were back.

Me and my digital friend traverse the moldy, bloody wreckage of the mall. I gasp as she teeters on the edge of a gap that doesn't belong there, nearly falling into oblivion as we run away from flying torsos and mummy dogs. I clench my teeth as we squeeze by tall humanoids with grotesquely swollen arms. We explore and examine this sick, decayed world together, a bit of humor here and there to keep us sane.

We climb down together into a deep darkness that might very well be the heart of this unholy world. When we reach the bottom, she looks around. The ladder is shattered offscreen by some unknown force. And then, right when I was foolish enough to let my guard down...

A giant purple penis bursts out of a hole in the wall and splits open, revealing a mouth nothing natural on this or any world would have.

I want to smirk at how Freudian this scene is. I can't, though. I'm too worried about the fate of the young lady that I've guided through this hell thus far. I hadn't brought her this far to have her be devoured by mutant genitalia.

I shoot at the creature's exposed maw, but get knocked down as I get nothing but clicks. I frantically try to get her up by slamming the buttons, and she finally rises. I enter my inventory to administer healing, and notice the screen to the upper left is in red. I use a first aid kit, and it turns a healthier shade of green. I arm myself with the rusted pipe and- with a few lucky blows- the phallic monster dies and reality as both me and the character I control knows it fades back in.

We walk down the hall and enter a normal looking burger place. Upon examine the occult symbol we find, I'm prompted to save my game, and myself the trouble of reliving that expirence. Then we move along in an attempt to exit this accursed place.

This person I've been controlling- Heather, her name is- has a talk with what seems to be a private iinvestigator. Apparently, that nightmare was real, and Heather feels like she has something to do with it.

Now why does that sound familiar?

As she heads down into the subway, I turn the game off.

No scores. No health meters with cartoon hearts next to them. Just darkness and decay and unnatural, ungodly sounds given off by unnatural, ungodly things. I'm a little shocked someone actually made this.

I go back to my room to turn in for the night. My pace is oddly quicker than usual. The sound of my footsteps echoing through the hall is a little unnerving. It's like I'm alone...or not, rather. It's like I'm in the presense of something I don't see, lurking just outside my field of vision. But I make it to my room without encountering flying torsos or splitting penis worms.

I browse over my bookshelf. I don't see anything that will ease the nightmares that will plague my mind tonight. That's really saying something.

I slip under the covers and shut my eyes. It sounds a little too quiet tonight.

Oh well. I don't hear static, at least.


	4. Bitch

Bitch

"I had it under control!"

"No, you didn't. Someone could have gotten hurt."

"Tch! Yeah, because you got in my way! W-What the hell, Raven!"

"I intervened. I did what I had to do. Deal with it."

"That's bull! You just did it to look better than me!"

"Whatever."

I walk off, Terra in hot pursuit as Beast Boy tries to calm her down.

"And there's that attitude again! You think you're so much better than everyone else!"

My temples throb. She's really getting on my nerves.

"And your need to show off in order to gain acceptence and praise is going to get someone killed." I drone, albeit in a slightly more irate tone.

"And-" she continues, utterly oblivious to my warnings, "You're an uptight, self centered, cold hearted BITCH!"

She pauses.

I pause.

She blinks.

"Raven..."

I turn around around and walk away.

"Raven! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"

She did, of course, before realizing the reprocussions.

My first reaction was anger. She infuriated me for a number of reasons. She wouldn't listen to sound advice, she actively pursued an argument with me, she delibterately tried to wound my psyche. It should all be nothing more and irritants, but...to be honest...

I wanted to wrap my hands around her throat.

And squeeze. Squeeze until I hear a sickening snap.

I close the door behind me, not once letting my feelings surface. Visibly, anyway. Once securely locked away in my sanctuary, I clench my fists. I grit my teeth. I teeter on the edge of destruction, but I manage to center myself just before the objects in the room can really begin to pick up speed. I put everything back in it's proper place, draw my legs up, and...

I'm shaking.

This is nonsense. I'm above getting angry over petty name calling and immature rants.

Terra. She walked into our lives, out of the blue. _Again_. She forces her way in, and we're all supposed to accept her. She erects her bridges at blinding speed, and expects people to believe they're stable enough to cross. I, for one, am not going to set foot on those haphazard deathtraps.

Azar above, the girl is mad. She's moody, volital, and, paranoid. Beast Boy chalks all that up to passion, but he's not an empath. And of course, he's more than a little bias. I'm sure he would justify Terra levelling the city by blaming it on menstration, which reminds me of the time...no...let's not think about that. Until the day comes when I can carve out whatever portion of my brain that resides in...let's just not think about it.

I admit to myself I'm angry at Terra. Very angry. So angry, I...

I don't trust Terra. Not with her powers. Not long ago, we were at the pizza parlor, as cooking seems to be something we simply don't have the time, patience, energy, or desire for more often than not. Terra was in a better position to hear her, but from what I gather, a couple girls at a nearby table made a comment on Terra's chest, questioning her "maturity". While the others were distracted with their own conversations, a pair of dirt clods from a nearby potted plant found there way upside the heads of both girls. They were quick to blame the rowdy, noisy kids at the table closest to the potted plant.

I'll admit I haven't always had such a degree of control over my own powers, but anything like that I could blame on my lack of control and not childish hurt feelings. What Terra did was of her own free will, and done with a smirk.

The girl- and I consciously use the term for a juvenille female- doesn't have any comprehension of reprocussions. She doesn't know what her actions will do, and she most likely wouldn't care if she did. She does whatever she pleases, with no regard of what will happen because of it. It's...

It's...

I suddenly notice I'm only a few bare inches from the ground. I take a deep breath, focus, and levitate back to my former position.

It's...

Bold?

Terra. She walked into our lives, out of the blue. Again. When we first found her, she was a starved, scrawny little thing living out in a cave. Honestly, not much has changed, but I think nowadays it's because her metabolism might rival- if not surpass entirely- Beast Boy's. But back then...

Azar above, the girl is mad. But it's a mad world, isn't it? I guess she did what she needed to do to adapt. She blindly charged for and built her bridges, totally unaware of what beasts could be waiting for her on the other side. For all she knew, they could have been creatures out of nightmares that ate little girls like her. She so hastily built her bridges, but she was scared of what would come across, so she set fire to the bridge and ran away as fast and hard as she could. And yet, something possessed her to return to this wreckage and try again.

It's bold. It's foolish, insane, but bold. She charged in head first, arms spread wide as she jumps out and hopes someone will catch her this time. She's going to get hurt if she keeps doing that. And maybe she has been hurt. Maybe beneath the image of that bold girl that tries so hard to earn acceptance and praise are scars left by angry creatures born from nightmares and ashes.

Scars...

She pretends they don't bother her, that they don't exist. She puts on an endearing smile and quickly goes about building a bridge to people she doesn't know. For what, Terra? What do you hope to gain from putting yourself in such a position?

"RAVEN?"

She pounds on my door.

"RAVEN, PLEASE! I'M SORRY"

Is...is she crying?

"I'M SO SORRY! DON'T BE MAD AT ME, PLEASE!"

She's...sobbing...

"RAVEN...PLEASE...DON'T..."

Ever so softly, I can hear Beast Boy comforting her and leading her away.

I'm so angry at Terra. I want to hurt her. I want to make her cry, and look her in the eyes, and smile. But truth be told...

I can't.

I want to hurt her. I want to make her cry, and look her in the eyes, and ask how can she be like she is. I want to scream at her. I want to know why she deserves to be so special. Why she gets to flaunt what she feels while I have to lock myself away, and-

I'm leaning against the door of my room. I don't know why.

I've come to terms with the world not being a fair and just place years ago. But still, for some reason...

Mother...why can't I be bold, like her? Why can't I be bold enough to open the door? Or at least, can't she be bold enough to open it for me?

I raise a hand to my cheek. Am I...crying?

I don't want to cry, but silently, a few tears escape my eyes and attempt to trail down my cheek before I quickly wipe them away.

Terra...are you making me cry?

Bitch...

* * *

author's notes: Just on a whim, I decided to be a little more enigmatic than usual. It's certainly a load off my shoulders not having to come up with commentary all the time. I do have a couple things to say, though. First, to a certain punk that bad mouthed me...funny. I never said I was trying to emulate Post in any way (which I'm NOT). Only a certain little bitch would know how this got started and be stupid enough to keep on pressing the buttons of someone that's been around a hell of a lot longer than him. You just don't learn, do you, Dum-Dum? Anyway, on a far more important note, be double damn sure to check my profile for updates, as well as to find the official forum for Macbeth Entertainment.

Yes, there will be much lesbianism.


	5. Poll

Poll

"HA! Dude! Jinx and Kitten got more votes than Blackfire?!"

"What, seriously? Kitten?"

"Ah, ah! No looking!"

"C'mon, Beast Boy! I wanna see!"

"Terra, wait! You-"

"17?! Well...not _that_ bad, I guess. Let's see...Star got...21...and...am I reading this right?"

"Hey! I voted for you! I totally voted for you! Cy was gonna vote for someone else, but I...'perseuded' him."

"You mean you begged?"

"Bribed, actually."

"I-I...I don't believe this. Raven, come look at this!"

I set down my book and walk over to the computer.

"And what is it that demands my attention?"

"Look at this!" Terra points out, "You got 46 of the votes!"

I lean over, and as I read the title of the poll, my eyes widen.

"Hottest Teen Titan Babe", it says. And I'm apparently winning by a landslide.

Heaven help us all, I'm winning by a landslide.

"Well...I'm locking my door extra tight tonight."

"Dude!" Beast Boy squealed, clutched me as I try to escape, "Check this out! 'Raven is way better than Starfire. Her leotard makes up for it, especially them jugs.' Oh...oh, dude, I'm _so_ showing Cyborg and Robin that!"

"Good." I drone, though in a slightly sharper tone than usual, "You do that. In the meanwhile, I'm going to try and kill the part of my brain that remembers someone used the word 'jugs' to describe my chest."

And I go back to my book, trying to do just that.

"Oh, Beast Boy! Look! 'Terra equals heart'!"

...I don't believe I've heard Terra give such a girlish squeal of delight before.

"Oh! Look at this one!"

"Wh- 'Star and Rae forever'? You're such a perv."

"Hehe! Hey, Raven!"

"If I was a lesbian," I moan, "Do you really think Starfire would be my type?"

"Ah, she's been saying that from day one. No one's buying it, Rae!"

I briefly glare at him before returning to my book.

"C'mon, Beebs!" squeals Terra, "Find another one with me!"

"Lemme see, lemme see...uh..."

"Oh! What did that one say?"

"I-It was nothing. Just said you had a flat butt."

"What a load! My butt is _not_ flat! Scroll back up! I wanna look at that one!"

"Wait, Terra! You don't-"

For a moment, there's silence. A strangely...uncomfortable silence.

"W-What..."

The quiver in her voice promps me to look up.

"W-Where does that guy get off?!"

"Don't pay any attention to him. Hey...when I first got started, people were always giving me a hard time!"

"Beast Boy...look at what he said! That goes way beyond ragging on the newbie!"

"Terra...Tear Bear...it's always hard to win people over when you first start."

"It's been over two months! How much longer do I have to work on my image before I can please these stupid people?!"

I almost feel the need to cringe as Terra stomps off.

"What was that all about?"

"Some stupid flamer." says Beast Boy, slumping in his seat.

"I'm...going to assume that's not slang for a pyrotechnics expert, and you're using internet speech again."

Beast Boy doesn't seem too amused with my attempt at humor.

I read the offending post that drove off Terra, and...as with too many times since I entered this world, I'm a little more appreciative of the impending apocolypse.

"I'll admit I was a little harsh with Terra at first, but this isn't at all called for."

Beast Boy crosses his arms and gives the screen an angry glare.

"A ton of people have been saying this sorta crap about her. Maybe...maybe she couldn't control her powers before, but that's no excuse for what they're saying!"

"Beast Boy, if she couldn't control her powers before, it's very likely she's made-"

"I know, I know! You think I don't know that?! But _she couldn't control her powers!_ How can anyone blame _her_ for that?! It's not her fault! I-It's so stupid!"

"Granted, but...people can have a nasty habit of ostracizing newcomers that don't say everything they want to hear. People only hear what they want to hear. I'm sorry to say I've fallen prey to such shallowness twice-"

"Twice?"

"Remember when Blackfire first came here?"

"Oh, right."

"Yeah. She said things I found pleasing, so I accepted her. Terra...she just appeared in almost Deus ex Machina fashion, and like a fool, I didn't give her a chance at all. But I'll admit...she doesn't offend the senses nearly as much as you often do."

Beast Boy stares at me for a moment. I think I lost him at the "Deus ex Machina" part.

"So...you're cool with her?"

"I guess you could say that."

I turn my attention to the screen.

"In any case...why in God's name do I have 46 of the votes? I mean...look at me."

"Exactly! I mean, if anyone's the female eye candy, it's Star! Uh, I mean, before Terra came along, of course! Hehe."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Well, whatever." I say as I walk off, "It's pointless."

"Dude! The leotard!"

I turn back to him.

"Excuse me?"

"Think about it! You wear a skin-tight leotard! You show off a ton of leg! That must be it! That's why you're so popular!"

I sigh.

"The idea of lesbianism grows ever more tempting." I drone as I go back to my book.

To my surprise, I don't feel the gears in Beast Boy's head turning at that thought. Instead...

"Hey, Raven? Could you...maybe...talk to Terra?"

"Why don't you do it?"

"I-I'd love to...I mean, I'd like to...really like to...but she isn't gonna listen to me. It would mean more if it came from you."

"Nervous?"

"N-No! It's just...she really wants you to accept her, Raven."

"I do accept her."

"But does she know it?"

Beast Boy had a moment of insight. The only way to balance out the universe was for my to go talk to Terra.

"GO AWAY!"

Which, as she screams through the door, seems to be easier said than done.

"TERRA? IT'S ME, RAVEN. CAN WE..."

I swallow hard and steel myself for the word about to pass over my lips.

"TALK?"

I hear the distinct sound of the door unlocking. After a few seconds of waiting, I assume it's safe to come in.

Terra's huddled up on her bed, her back to me. And ever-so-slightly, I can feel her tugging gently on my heartstrings.

"It was a poll made by internet people. They often spell words with numbers and can't muster up the effort to fully type out the word 'you'. Somehow, I doubt their opinions hold any real value."

"Yeah?" she moans, "And what about offline? All those people whispering behind your backs, calling me a wannabe little bitch. The same people I always save."

I sit down on the edge of the bed.

"Despite what that poll said about me, I'm not all that popular, myself. I've had quite a few people call me 'devil child' before."

And then a stifling, awkard silence settle deep into the air. Ever so slightly, I begin to lift myself up...

"You almost got fifty percent of that poll."

Only to sit back down, silence weighing me down.

"Why does everyone hate me?"

I shut my mouth just as something barely comes out. I hoped not to make a sound, but now Terra's looking at me expectantly.

"Hate...is a pretty strong word..."

It comes out awkwardly, but it's said. Hate is a pretty strong word.

Did I hate Terra before? I...

"Why did you hate me?"

I feel a little...taken aback.

"Terra, I don't hate you."

"But you did, right?"

"It's...complicated. Some people...they get used to a certain routine. They're uncomfortable when that routine gets disturbed."

For some reason, Terra tenses up.

"Raven...are you..."

She hesitate a moment, but then the word slips past her lips.

I raise an eyebrow and repeat the word.

"Jealous?"

"No!" she suddens says, curling up inside an invisible shell, "F-Forget I said that!"

"Terra, why would I be jealous of you? I may not look it in society's eyes, but I am secure with myself."

"I-I meant your powers." she mutters nervously, "Y'know, controlling them."

She's getting profoundly uncomfortable with this conversation, but she reminds me of something that's pacing around in the back of my head...

"Well, I am curious as to how _you_ learned to control your powers."

Ever so slightly, she peeks her head out of her shell.

"I...I just sorta...well, I let go of trying to control my powers. I just totally gave up on trying to push it all down, and keep everything from just blowing up, and...it...I just sorta felt it. I felt like I was in control."

She sits up and smiles at me, letting stray locks obscure one eye.

"I was finally in control, Raven! No one would get hurt because of me anymore! I thought now I could join you guys, and people would stop hating me!"

Her abruptly entheusiastic smile sudden drops as memory pulls her back into reality.

"That was the plan, at least."

"The best laid plans of mice and men..."

As the silence sets back in, I carefully look over my psyche. Yes, I was paranoid because of her recklessness, but I was so harsh. Her intentions were good, after all. She just wanted to be one of us. But...

Azar above, was I really jealous? The thought of that freezes my body, a venomous truth paralyzing me. She's free from the never-ending cycle of surpressing and controlling, leaving me alone in my own little mobius strip. She can feel whatever she feels, while I have to keep it all under control. And when I think about it, when I realize the truth, I can feel the smallest sting.

Honestly, though, what would I do without my soul-numbing routines? How could I handle being emotional?

And a better question still, how would the world handle it?

"You're a stick girl."

What Terra said about learning to control her powers...no. I won't risk such a thing. She has a lot less at stake than I. But that's not to say I can't learn something from it.

"E-Excuse me?"

"With all you eat around here, you think you would have put on a little weight."

I stand up, dragging up a surprised, confused, and malnurished geomancer with me.

"Come on."

"Huh?! Raven, what are doing?"

"If we're going to sit around and be depressed, let's do it over ice cream."

"W-Wait. You're...gonna join me?"

"Sure." I shrug, "Despite what Beast Boy might have you believe, I'm not substained solely by herbal tea. I like ice cream, so long as it's not cookie dough."

"What's wrong with cookie dough?"

"It's raw dough. Who in their right mind eats raw dough?"

"It's cookie dough! It's totally different!"

"It's raw dough. Eating raw dough is disgusting."

"Raven...it's _cookie dough!_ Unbaked cookie material! Dude, you've never eaten cookie dough?"

"I...won't get sick if I do, will I?"

Terra laughs at that, the silence far behind us now. It passed away with other things.

Later, much later, when all else are fast asleep...I cast my vote at that stupid, disturbing, offensive poll. And ever so slightly, I smile to myself.

No one will ever know.


	6. Wrist

Wrist

In this vocation, I seem to accumulate all manner of filth. Literally speaking.

I shed my old uniform- relieved to be rid of the various stains left by things I don't want to dwell on- and go to my closet to retreive a fresh one. My hand pauses as I reach for the door.

I look at my wrist. I flex my fingers.

Sweet Azar, I'm thin.

I try not to make a habit at looking at my body. It's not because of insecurity of my physical appearance, but because it's often a sobering reminder of just how frail I really am. Of course, being the petite little thing I am, I need little reminder of just fragile I appear. But looking at my wrist, bare and pale, I remember just how easily I could die.

I don't think I'm morbid for thinking about my own mortality. I'm certainly not suicidal, as much as the world might benefit if I was. No, looking at my wrist, realizing how one laceration could bring about the end of my existence, it has the exact opposite effect. I want to live. I want to live so badly.

And that scares me.

A long time ago, I came to terms that I would die. That everything dies. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself. It's moments like this, moments where I look down at my thin wrist and notice that slight shaking that only I can see, that I realize I may just be lying to myself.

Death is inevitable. In the end, everything returns to dark nothingness from whence it came. These aren't the ghoulish cries for attention from a sad little girl. These are facts. Facts that I want to say I can accept wholeheartedly. But if I could accept this, why do I keep dwelling on it? Why is it I keep reminding myself of my supposed "acceptance" every time I look at pale, thin wrists? Am I trying to bury a deep fear inside me? A instinct, primal fear engraved into every cell in my body?

I run a finger over my wrist. I shiver. My hands are cold. As if there was no blood coursing through my body. I'm cold and pale as a corpse, but- as uncharacteristic as this sounds- I have to laugh at myself for thinking such a thing. Sometimes, at least. Other times, I have to wonder if I'm actually alive or if I've become nothing more than a lingering phantasm trapped watching the living go about their daily motions.

Honestly, I can't say I don't find that a little appealing. That's a kind of freedom the living don't allow themselves to have. Just...being. Floating on whims and remaining forever untouched. Free to enjoy the kinds of beauty the living never have the time to observe. No duties, no obligations, nothing but a free flow of thought and will.

Honestly, though, I can't say I'm entirely comfortable without some kind of fetters. I suppose it's the nature of all things to desire conflict for some mad reason mere mortals can never comprehend. Maybe all things need an opposing force to truly be whole. There's nothing to be learned from effortless efforts. So I read out in the living room, in plain view of all. I struggle and groan as my friends tow me about, never firmly planting my feet on the ground and putting up any real protest. I provide the ebb to the flow of things around here.

I wonder...will I ever be the flow? No, I suppose not. Maybe I'm just being pestimistic, but I doubt anything will ever flow smoothly in my life. But...it is an amusing thought. Me actually being on the giving end of harassment, rather than the receiving. And what poor, miserable soul would be the ebb to my flow? What truly pathetic wretch could find me annoyingly cheerful and upbeat? The day I find such a person would be the End Times, no doubt. But still...

But still, ever so slightly, the thought brings the slightest smile to my lips. In spite of it all, I don't have things that bad. It's a nice thought, if not entirely true. Not entirely true, but not entirely false. As dark as I am, as red as the accursed blood is in my veins...

I look at my wrist. I flex my fingers.

Sweet Azar, I'm thin. But that doesn't bother me. Even Pandora's Box had Hope inside it. A small, frail light, maybe the size of a constantly conflicted girl stuck being the ebb to the flow of things.

I put on a fresh uniform.

Hmm. I wonder if Starfire has any plans this afternoon...


	7. Jesus

Jesus

...Funny. Only just now do I realize that the shade isn't ideal for reading. I scoot over slightly, bringing my book into the slivers of light that pierce the treetop.

And seconds later, my book is obscured by shadow again.

"Uh..."

A young girl standing in front of me, her hands full of pamphlets, casts a nervous glance over to a middle aged man with a comb-over. I raise an eyebrow and speak up.

"Uh, can I help you?"

"H-Have you found Jesus?"

The very first thing that comes to mind is a cartoon Beast Boy once showed me of Christ rising up from between someone's couch cushions and the caption "Gary Finds Jesus" written under it.

"Excuse me?"

But I don't think it would be approriate to mention that.

"G-God has a...a very special plan for you, but...uh...you need to let Jesus into your heart."

A chilling sensation washes over me. There is something very wrong with this girl.

She tries, in vain, to hand me a pamphlet.

"No, thanks." I say, trying to wave it away as politely as I can.

The poor girl tenses up. I guess she's never been trained on what to do if someone deviates from the script.

"But...um...if you don't accept Jesus Christ, you'll go to Hell."

Poor girl. If only...

"I'll take my chances." I mutter, secretly hoping she doesn't hear.

Not sure what to do now, she bites her lip and makes her retreat, and the slivers of light freely fall back onto my book.

"You scaring off Girl Scouts, now?"

"Scaring off cultists, Cyborg."

I look as his apron.

"'Liscense to Grill'? Point out one person here old enough to get that reference."

"Burgers are almost done. You can come join us if you're done scaring little girls."

"Sure. Just let me finish this chapter and retrieve my broomstick. Remind me to check the gingerbread house for stray children before we go home."

"Sure thing, Rae."

He laughs at that. Now if only other people would just get enough common sense to do the same...

People can be very...taxing. Azarath may not have been a culturally diverse place, but we never so eagerly embraced ignorance and intolerance. My mother, who had come from both a strongly religious household and town, tried her best to prepare me for the persecution I would suffer by being different. She warned me that while the city was by no means a sanctuary, that I should never venture into Small Town America. She was so insistent about that.

Mother, people are people. Whether it's in the big city or small country, people will always be people.

You think someone who's an established super heroine wouldn't be so subject to such blatant bigotry. Just last week, it happened for the umpteenth time this year. Being able to teleport, I was the one that went into the burning building. Almost everyone I rescued was very grateful, but there was one woman who was less than grateful to be rescued by a "devil child", as she put it. Her children were sane enough. They told her I was a Titan and I was going to rescue them, but she would have none of that. She called me a "little witch", "devil child"...and quite a number of other things that don't deserve remembering. She said I would steal their souls and they would be in Heaven soon if they wouldn't give in to my "tempations".

I still saved her. She said I corrupted her children's souls with my dark, evil powers. And if I recall right, she unsuccessfully tried to sue us.

As much as it confounds the logical mind, this isn't limited to the devotely religious. Or at least I'm assuming everyone who whispers "witch" and "goth" and points in my direction isn't a regular church goer. It's nothing more than annoying, so...I try not to let let it get to me...but still...

My light's obscured again, but this time by a much larger shadow.

The very moment I look up, I'm greeted by the middle aged man with the comb-over, smiling a very artificial smile.

There is something very, very wrong with that smile.

"I hear someone won't accept Jesus!" he says in a pleasantly hollow tone, "Don't you want to go to Heaven, miss?"

"I'm fine here on _orbis terrarum_, thank you." I drone, hoping a combination of apathy and Latin will drive him away.

"Oh, nonsense!" he cheerfully says, his smile unwavering, "The only way to be happy is through God!"

Thank God Cyborg showed up when he did. Azar help me, I have limits to what I can tolerate.

"Something going on here, Rae?"

"Cyborg!" he says as if he greeting an old friend, "My daughter was just about come to you!"

"She was? Wait, is she that girl that tried to give Raven that pamphlet?"

"Yes! You do so much to protect this city, but are you soldiers in God's army?"

"Wha...look, sorry, man, but we don't-"

"God needs strong soldiers like you in his army! And say, has your alien friend heard the word of Christ?"

"We try to respect _everyone's_ beliefs. Sorry, but-"

The man's hollow smile doesn't flinch at all.

"But if you're not fighting for God, you're not truly fighting for the right thing."

I stand up and gently tap Cyborg on the shoulder.

Just as his hand begins to clench.

"Those burgers are going to be very well done in a minute." I mutter.

"Jesus can save you, too!" he says before we even have a chance to turn around, "It doesn't matter if your mother does drugs or you were molested!"

"YO!"

Cyborg throws off his stereotypical chef's hat and steps up toe-to-toe with the evangelist.

"Where do you get off saying that sort of trash!"

"Oh, come now!" the evangelist says, that damned smile not giving in a bit, "Look at her! Her kind never come from stable families, so they give themselves to Satan. But don't worry, Raven! God has a pl-"

Cyborg steps in the way as he tries to look at me.

"I suggest you leave my friend alone."

Suddenly, as he catches sight of the other Titans getting up from the picnic table, the evangelist seems to have a crisis of faith. His smile fades and he steps back. He reaches into his pocket and splashes something on me.

"WITCH!" he screams as he runs off, "YOU'RE ALL DEVIL WORSHIPPERS!"

Everyone rushes to my aid.

"Whoa, Raven! You okay!"

"Are you unharmed!"

"Dude! What was that about!"

"Raven! Are you okay!"

I look at the wet spot on my arm.

"I think it's...holy water. The tingling sensation means it's working."

I pause.

"I'm kidding. About the tingling part, at least."

"Please," says Starfire, "Why did that man throw sanctified liquids upon you?"

"Granny Cy said there's three things you don't discuss around the dinner table," says Cyborg as he retrieves his hat, "Religion, politics, and nutjobs who throw holy water on you. C'mon, y'all. Let's eat."

Robin take a brief glance back.

"I've seen that guy before..."

"He's that one lowlife televangelist." says Beast Boy, "Y'know, the one that held a rally to blamed gays and Democrats for terrorism and hurricanes?"

"No...I remember him back in Gotham. He was running this scam where he claimed he had springwater that could cure cancer."

"Guess I'll be in good health, then." I mutter.

I look back for a moment. And for the umpteenth time, I just sigh, quietly curse, and shrug it off.

But this is one of the rare times that I can't shrug it off that easily. I can't help but think about that girl. I know it's not my place, but...

I let her go. I let her go with a madman who preaches madness, and she could very well be scarred for life by him and his words. I know I shouldn't push my beliefs onto others, but...

Did I really do the right thing?


	8. Linx

Linx

I groan as I hear a faint, muffled giggle.

"I thought the computers at the library blocked out p-"

I duck behind a bookcase. Sitting at one of the computers is the source of the giggling: A girl in black with pink hair, pigtails shaped like horns.

It couldn't possibly be her...

She puts a cellphone to her ear.

"Hello?"

That voice. It's her, no doubt about it. But...this doesn't seem right...

"Just running errands. The kind that demand running."

I notice a bag next to her, graphic novels poking out. Sandman, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Nightmares and Fairy Tales...

"What? I _do_ have a life, you know. Maybe, but that doesn't mean I want to be a workaholic. I wanna have fun sometimes. Uh...errands can be fun. I'm whispering because...no! What I do in my freetime is none of your...what?! Forbidden...what? What in...well, if I was a lesbian, it's because of boys like you!"

She puts her cellphone away and turns her attention back to the computer.

She's too focused on something amusing for her to notice me sit in the station next to her. I peak over the partition just long enough to get a good look at the URL. I type it in and...

"Words of a Madman"?

I quickly browse over the site. At the very bottom, I see a member online: "CCP".

Otherwise know as Jinx.

I scroll up to take a better look at the forums, and...

Does that say..."Lesbionics"?

Jinx...

I shake the thought off and continue browsing. It looks like someone's trying to start an entertainment company here. The "Darkness Illustrated" section catches my eye, but I put off that for the moment. I see that I can check where members have clicked last, and...

Lesbionics?

I look over at her. Just what is she doing at a place like _this?_

I browse over the section and...

And...

I'm at a loss of words.

Someone named "Neko Yogurt" has devoted an entire thread to foddling breasts.

And Neko Yogurt is apparently female.

I'm at such a loss of words.

I click on the thread labelled..."I'd Hit That"...and any notions of this place being a gathering place of villiany quickly evaporates.

Maybe it's because of the girl who's obsessed with Keira Knightly. Maybe it's because no self respecting evil doer would name themselves "Yum Yum Bunny". But most likely, it's because of Jinx and her giggling fit.

I scroll down and see that Jinx herself has a list of people she would...

I scroll back up. Yes, it's exactly what I think it is.

Wow.

I scroll back down. I see Jinx has listed Neil Gaiman's Death, Evanescence's Amy Lee, a female character from a "Darkness Illustrated" project, and...

I blush.

She...comments on my hair...being cute...

Ever so slowly, I look over the partition. She's now browsing over...

"'Elf Porn'?"

I cover my mouth all too late.

And then...the whole world becomes quieter, grayer. Everything quietly fades, leaving just me and her.

I see her shaking. She's quietly praying under her breath. Praying she didn't just her me whisper that. Praying that when she turns around, she isn't going to see wide eyed, red cheeked me.

But the gods don't listen.

"Um...what..."

"It's not what it looks like!" Jinx says in one quick breath.

"Um..."

"It's a mature drama!"

"What..."

"I was curious. It had 'Mature Audiences' in the topic header, so..."

I slowly sink back behind the comfort of the partition.

"So...Jinx..."

A pause.

"Raven..."

"Do you..."

"Did...did you check Darkness Illustrated?"

"No, no. I'll...do that now..."

"Yeah. Pretty cool stuff there. Dead Girl Blues and this one project inspired by you guys, with serial killers for villians."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just a couple scripts up, but the notes have details on future issues."

"Issues?"

"It's planned to be an online comic, when the administrator can find an artist."

"Hmm."

"Check out Acid Dreamer, too. In M-E Originals. Oh! And Old Kid in F.U.S.! It's sounds like it's going to be totally messed up!"

Somehow, Jinx morbid giggling makes me want to smile. Ever so slightly.

"Anything like Oldboy?"

"The administrator says that's one of the inspirations. Has a lot more in common with a Takashi Miike film or The Guinea Pig series, though."

"You've seen a Guinea Pig movie?" I say, a slight bit of morbidness sneaking into my growing smile.

"Got the box set." Jinx states proudly, "You?"

"Just 'Mermaid in a Manhole' and 'Flowers of Flesh and Blood'. That one made me loose a few nights worth of sleep."

Jinx laughs, most likely for the most unwholesome of reasons.

"Wasn't Flowers of Flesh and Blood the one Charlie Sheen turned into the FBI because he thought is was a real snuff film?"

"I think so. Can't say I blame him."

I blink.

She blinks.

"I...should really get going..." I mutter.

"Yeah," says Jinx, grabbing her bag, "Me, too. Gotta...y'know, further the cause of evil and stuff...hehe..."

We get up and...

She looks back for a moment. Back at me.

After I'm sure she's gone, I get back on the computer.

"Mature drama, huh..."


	9. Size

Size

As the adrenaline runs thin, I feel off balance. Looking down at "me" does nothing but make me dizzier.

"Hold on, Starfire." I tell the girl in my body, "I'm not used to...being so tall..."

"It is truly that strange?" Starfire says, using my body as a medium.

"Yes. My feet are on the ground, but I still feel so high up. Am I..."

I hesitate for a moment.

"Really that short?"

My...Starfire's face lights up.

"I have not realized this before! You are, indeed, quite-"

"STARFIRE!"

She calms herself just as a nearby trashcan rattles.

"Sorry. As I was saying, you are indeed, quite small. And..."

A smile curls back up my...her lips.

Me? Smiling? Weird.

"You are surprisingly volumnous in cuteness."

"Um...what?"

Weirder still...

"I've never noticed how small you are Raven! You body is much like that of a child's!"

"Uh, I think that's a slight exaggeration. Now...since the Puppet King's not looking for us, I think we should take a few minutes to try and gain some more control over our bodies."

I stand in front of me...or Starfire stands in front of herself...my body stands in front of Starfire's body and stares at it was a childlike whimsy I didn't know my body was capible off.

Sweet Azar above. I _do_ have the capacity to be cute.

"From your prospective, I am so tall! I must appear not unlike a great goddess of battle to one so small in stature!"

"Okay, now just you're teasing me."

"Forgive me, friend, but I am not. I have never realized that...you are so _small!_ You are such a tiny, svelte creature! To be so small and helpless..."

My body, under Starfire's control, gives a high pitched squeal.

Is she actually enjoying being me?

"Uh...Starfire? I'm not helpless..."

The lid of the nearby trashcan soars a good several yards into the air.

"Oh! I apologize! I did not mean to imply your are weak! But...I have never once taken notice just how-"

"Petite, svelte, dainty, wee, wispy, tiny, small, and frail I am. Yes, I am little, and if I didn't have any powers, we would need a stepping stool for the kitchen, because I can barely even touch the middle shelves. And if we had a car, I'm sure I would require a booster seat."

Before she can go on making me feel far more childlike than I really am, she notices something about her body. She gets on her tiptoes...which does nothing to make me look more mature...and...

Is she staring at her chest?

"Starfire...what are you doing?"

Then she looks down at my own chest...and pokes.

"Raven..."

She look at her chest, then back at mine.

"Are your breasts bigger than-"

"No."

"But-"

"No."

She looks as me a moment.

"Raven...what is wrong? I simply wish to gain a better understanding of your b-"

She looks and shakes her chest. Then shakes it again...and starts giggling.

"Stop that!"

I reach out and...

Oh, good lord.

"Hehe! I did not know you were so sensa-"

"DON'T! Don't...say it."

I slowly withdraw my hands and sigh.

"Starfire...please reframe from playing with my breasts."

"But Raven!" she giggles, "They do not fit your otherwise lithe for at all! Do you not find this amusing?"

"No, I do not. I'm sensative about my...those."

Starfire looks down and grabs my...

I turn away. And quietly, I make a solemn oath to make the Puppet King suffer for the rest of his now shortened existence.

"But Raven, why are you sensative? They are so soft and pillowy, and with the slightest motion, they dance!"

I'm too afraid to turn around.

"Raven, what do you think of my breasts?"

"They're breasts." I drone, "Just breasts."

"Please, friend! Touch them and-"

"NO! No...that's quite alright. I think I won't loose any sleep over...that..."

I look over my shoulder, long locks flowing swiftly out of the way, and...

I grimace as I look down at my own pouting face.

My cute, pouting face.

I look down, my back still to my real body, and...

"They're, uh...they're firm. Firm and...just the right size...I guess..."

I sigh with relief when I hear an approving giggle from behind me. I take a deep breath, hope it's safe to turn around, and...

Starfire's about to look up her skirt. With my eyes.

We both scream and jump back. I instinctively try to pull my/her skirt down.

"Starfire?!"

"S-Sorry! I...I was curious! Ever since I was a youngling, I has always been curious about-"

"I'll loan you a mirror! I'll...loan you a mirror after this is all over, okay?"

My pale face blushes furiously and a gives a few quick nods.

"Alright...I...think we've both gotten to know our bodies better than I wanted. Now, there's a condemned theater somewhere around here that was going to be torn down until equipment mysteriously broke down and workers started thinking it was haunted. I'm guessing that's where the Puppet King will be. I'm...still working on this 'boundless joy of flight' thing, so you'll have to fly me up so I can look for it."

"Affirmative."

Starfire closes her eyes and quietly says my usual mantra. As she begins to levitate, I put an arm around her and she grabs ahold of me.

And feels like I'm holding on to a little girl...

"You're doing good. Just keep taking calm, steady breaths..."

I look around, and several blocks away, I spot the theater.

"There!"

And there's a sudden dip.

"Starfire!"

"Sorry!"

"Stay calm! Focus!"

She wobbly begins to descend. I'm slipping out of her grasp, clinging on to a leg and trying to pull myself back up as Starfire tries to concentrait on a gentle landing. In my panic, I pull at her...my leotard, and...

We fall safely, albeit not gracefully, into a dumpster.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. And you, Raven?"

"I'm fine. What happened? You were doing okay until..."

And then I see what happened. When I tugged at my leotard, I...

"Um...hold still..."

"Raven? What-"

I cover up the area I accidently exposed.

"Hehe! Raven, would you please touch me there again?"

I remind myself she has no knowledge of human ananomy. It's just innocent curiousity...

"No."

But that doesn't mean I'm not taking a long shower after this.

Just as she reaches down, I slap her hand.

"I'll get you a book about that later. For now...let's try flying to the theater. Without touching."

While Starfire seems to have little trouble floating upwards, I'm having trouble getting myself off the ground.

"Uh, Raven? How do I...move in a non-upward direction?"

Before I can respond, she shreiks as a bird narrowly misses her. Thankfully, I manage to catch her...

Catch myself...

I'm holding myself in my arms. And I am quite a small, frail looking little thing. And...right now, at least...

I'm cute.

And ever-so-slightly, I feel lighter.

"You know what? Let's just walk."


	10. Ethics

Ethics

"Terra, be careful!"

"I'm not gonna bring down the tunnel on us! Geez! Would it kill you to put a little faith in-"

If she would have just listened, she would know that one of Jinx's favorite tactics was to shoot the ground and create a chasm. But there's no need to now.

She just did.

But unforunately for Jinx, this is her first encounter with Terra. She has little trouble turning Jinx attack back on her, but as the earth still crumbles beneath our feet, I remember something.

The old subway tunnels, hundreds of feet below the city, are right beneath us.

And so we all plunge into darkness.

"Mmhhh..."

"Rav...Ra...en..."

I blink a few times. I shouldn't be seeing light.

"Raven? You okay?"

Terra's over me, holding a flickering flare.

"Peachy." I mumble as I stand up and dust myself off, "That's what I was trying to warn you about. Jinx has-"

I quickly scan the area.

"Where's Jinx?"

Terra shyly looks away.

"It's alright." I sigh, "It wouldn't be the first time she escaped."

She bites her lip.

"What's wrong?"

"S-Sorry. I screwed up, didn't I?"

"Well..."

"I-I'm sorry. I'll get us out of here."

"Wait. These tunnels can't be too terribly stable. If we can get our bearings, we can get out of here. Where did you get that flare?"

"Um, there was this old emergency supply box. There's a maintenance station or something over there."

"Good. There should be a map in-"

I pause.

"Did you hear that?"

"What?"

It's faint, but...I hear crying. I walk towards the source-

"Wait!"

Terra...she's hiding something.

"I-I don't hear anything. The other's are gonna worry about us."

A staggered cough comes in the direction of the crying.

"Terra! Get me a flare!"

After a moment of hesitation, she retrieves a flare for me. In the dim light, I see...

"Jinx!"

What looks like a broken lever is sticking out of her side. A stain is growing around her prone form.

"Hold on! Terra, did you know about this?!"

"I-"

"And you were just going to let her die?!"

"Wh...what do you care?"

Eyes halfed closed, Jinx looks up at me.

"Ju...just another cr-criminal off the streets, right?"

I don't respond. I just focus on getting Jinx off the lever. I envelope her in dark energy and slowly lift her off. Once off, I quickly, gently lay her on her side

"Terra, hold her. I need to close the wound on both sides."

She lays down her flare and holds Jinx.

"S-She's right, you know."

Terra's careful not to look at me when she says that.

"Maybe we should let her die down here. It's not like anyone would know."

"We would know, Terra."

"Yeah, but...isn't she just going to cause more trouble if we help her?"

"B-Blondie's got a point, there."

"Don't talk, Jinx."

"Don't...don't tell me what to do."

Terra has to hold her firm as she starts going to a hacking fit.

"I told you not to talk. Why is no one listening to me today?"

"Raven, you know she's just going to go back to doing what she always does, and she's going to get someone hurt. Why should we bother?"

I look at Terra a moment. I wonder if she's really talking about Jinx.

"Ethics."

"Ethics?"

"Ethics."

Jinx chokes out a laugh.

"Ethics? What a...what a joke. N-No one really cares-"

"Did you see any duct tape, Terra?"

"F-Fine. Silent me. I-I'm at your mercy, after all."

"Getting worked up isn't going to do you any good."

"Quit telling me what to do!"

Jinx...is she crying?

"What do you care if I die down here?! I wouldn't care about you!"

The puncture wound finally closes. She lost a fair amount of blood, but she'll live.

"There. Done. Afraid I don't have a lollipop."

"Shut up." whimpers Jinx, "Just...shut up and leave me alone..."

"I-I have a lollipop."

Me and my unruly patient look at her.

"What, seriously?"

"Yeah. In my pocket. You want it, Jinx?"

Jinx stares up at her.

"What flavor?"

"Strawberry."

"Sure."

I go and look for a map. Hearing the sound of torn wrapping and a weak moan of satisfaction, I think it's safe to say Jinx is going to be alright.

"Looks like it's a long walk, but if we head right, we'll be close to the Casey Street station."

I hear a small whimper of surprise.

Terra's...carrying Jinx...

"Which way?"

"Uh...that way."

As I look down at Jinx, helpless and childlike in Terra's arms, I just have to smile a little.

"Tewl anyone abouw thish," she says with the lollipop in her mouth, "And I shwear, I'll kiwl you bowth."

"You'd sound a lot more threatening if you took the candy out of your mouth."

This certainly wasn't something I was expecting when I awoke this morning. Terra carrying a wounded, sulking Jinx. She's confidently holding her head up high, not worrying about anyone's approval.

I think you're getting the hang of this, Terra. I'm proud of you.


	11. Hate

Hate

Fire and brimstone erupt all around. A thick miasma of sulpher and blood fills the air. And there, in the ruins of a school, stands the last living thing on this planet besides me. Hope crushed, she's on her knees, a steady stream of tears flowing down her cheeks.

How wonderful it is that she be the last life left on the planet to snuff out.

I smile. Without restraints to hold me back, I can smile at this. No more morals, no more ethics. Certainly no more heroes. There will be no happy ending. No Deus ex Machina solution can fix what I've done to this planet.

And I don't regret what I've done. When I let go of any shred of optimism, I realized they all deserved it. The suffering, the madness, the despair, each and every single worthless life deserved it. Humanity is, was, nothing more than a collection of fools, and traitors, and half-wits, and cowards, and creatures even more despicable than me. But at least I serve a purpose. I punish the wicked. And in a world saturated with sin, it's only fitting that the Devil brings an end to it, once and for all.

Why did I never see this before? I was never doing any good. I was never helping anyone. I was only a tool that made their lives easier. I was only making people more pompous, more spoiled, more greedy and selfish. What we do we do of our own free will, and so many chose to waste their lives on the most petty, self-destructive things.

Like you, little girl. We gave you a home, we gave you our friendship...we gave our trust...

I gave you _my_ trust...

You little bitch! I trusted you! I actually put my trust in you, and you stab me in the back! And for what?! How could possibly justify it?! What pathetic excuse do you have?! Did someone _make_ you do it?! Is that what you would say?! That's a lie! It was _your_ choice!

_It was your choice, Terra!_

It wasn't easy letting you close. Looking back...a very small part of me, nothing more than a faint memory...I lived in such a small world. Maybe if things had turned out better...I would have grown into something better...

I _could_ have been something better, Terra, but you made your choice. Because of you, I stayed in my small world, and...just look around you. It's absurd that something so small caused all this, but it's not the big things that break a person. It's the little things that ultimately drive us on into our own apocolypses. Sometimes it's the privacy of a noose, sometimes it's as public as a random shooting, but it's never anything so monumental as to so obviously foreshadow anything. It's that one loose pebble that sets off an unstoppable rockslide.

I clench her throat with both hands, my hands an executioner's noose that will tighten in time. But not too quickly. If at all possible, I want to her feel even more helpless. I want her to slowly suffocate. I want her to fight and struggle for breath, just like I did. And just like I did, I want her to realize she's going to die and give up. And just like me, she's going to find herself alive, because fate isn't going to be kind to her, either.

It's shouldn't be. It's not fair. I had to meditate every day, and you...you get to flaunt whatever you feel? No. No, that isn't right. That...cannot be right...

No...I won't let you...

As her legs kick about, as tears stream down her face, I can feel a profound sense of gratification I've never know. In my past life, it would have been wrong to feel this. I wasn't supposed to enjoy making someone suffer. But now...

Hehe...

Yes. I smile. And I laugh. And I feel joy.

She chokes and gasps, desperate for a breath. I relax my grip, ever so slightly. She whimpers, she stops struggling. She must think I've had a change of heart. Oh, but what a wonderfully terrible surprise she is in...

She stops struggling. She stops fighting. She stops crying. And...she says...

NO! This wasn't how it was supposed to be! How dare you do this!

You can't be sorry...

How dare you say you're sorry...

You...

My grip loosens. She falls to the ground.

And I follow.

I shouldn't be crying. I have nothing to feel guilty over. Everyone deserved what they received.

Or at least that's what I try to tell myself as Terra holds the sobbing, hurting wreckage that is me. Not the old me or the new me.

The real me.

The real me, and the real Terra. We're both stripped of all our defenses. We're both too hurt and too vulnerable to hurt each other any more. Even after everything we've said and done, I don't hate the real her, and she doesn't hate the real me.

But I'm not really thinking about such things right now. As Terra strokes my hair and wipes my tears, telling me everything will be okay when it quite obviously isn't...

"I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay. I know."


	12. Fiction

Fiction

Guess I've gotten to the library too early. It isn't open yet.

My only company out here on this cold and foggy morning is a pale young man in black with long, coppery hair.

I've seen him here before. Every day, like clockwork. I feel like I've seen him somewhere else before. Something seems different about him today. He seems...bitter, jaded...

But it's not as if I've ever observed him that closely.

He gives a weak cough and leans against one of the pillars outside. I look at him closer. He doesn't look very well.

I quickly look elsewhere as his eyes shift in my direction. He curls up in his jacket and gives an even weaker, almost inaudible cough.

I can't shake the feeling I've seen him before, but that's not what's on my mind. What's on my mind is the feeling that he's different. He seems so much colder than...

I want to say something, but the words get caught in my throat. Maybe it's for the best. He doesn't look very talkative, anyway.

No sooner than the doors open that a gust of wind brushes past me, and I realize he's gone.

Azur above, he was quick. How did I miss him? Well, no matter, I suppose.

Being a paramour of the written word, it's no surprise that I would be here on the weekend. I do have another reason, though. A reason I seek out with a secret little grin.

I think it was about five months ago when I found it. A copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream was poking out ever-so-slightly, with a piece of paper sticking out of it. And when the book suddenly poked out a little bit more as I passed by, I had the distinct feeling someone was trying to get my attention. I plucked the piece of paper out and on it, it said one simple thing.

"You interest me".

Just three words sparked my friendship with this phantom, who coyly hides away somewhere in one of these books. We give each other knowing winks and leave small clues of next our hiding places in passing. And we give chase after each other, and it all starts over again, and...

Dare I say I'm having fun chasing after this imaginary friend of mine? The whimsy of childhood passed me by, but that's not to say I don't have some concept of it. I won't admit this to a single soul, but whoever you are, my friend...you make me smile. You make me feel lighter, and the world becomes softer, and it all moves slower, and...

You make me happy. You make me genuinely happy. And for this bit of happiness, I wish I could return it to you in spades.

I slowly stalk the shelves. I'm looking for something..."wyrd". "Wyder things can happen", he told me. It's a strange misspelling, and I know he's making a reference to something, but what?

I pause, turn on my heel, and head towards the mythology section. And my secret grin grows.

It wasn't a misspelling at all. He often talks about repercussions, and what does "wyrd" mean?

I remember running across that word time and time again in old texts. I spy "The Passages of Wyrding" and quickly pluck it out. To my dismay, it's not there.

I don't recall ever feeling like this before. No, not the urge to smile...well, maybe...but this feeling. A thrill mixed with anticipation and lighthearted joy. I can honestly, most definitely say I've never felt this before. But I can honestly say I'm enjoying this.

As I wrack my mind for where the next hiding place could be, I pass by that young man, stationed at one of the computers. I've seen him here almost every day for months, always coming and going at the exact same time. He's been missing days here and there, recently. I wonder if anyone else notices...

Odd, how little we can know the people we find ourselves around so constantly. Some things are better left untold, but...I think about my phantom friend, whose message is hidden somewhere in one of these many books. What if they didn't find my message? What if someone else found it before they did? What if something happened? Something...

As paranoia grips my little heart, I suddenly remember a small detail of their life they would so proudly talk about whenever given the chance.

I make haste to the works of Shakespeare and scan over all the books. There's one I'm looking for, but I can't quite...

I notice an empty space, and my heart sinks. I don't know if it's the one I'm looking for, but the mere thought of it is enough to kill my secret smile.

Look at yourself, Raven. Excitement, joy, smiles. What in Azar's name is wrong with you? You aren't supposed to know anything of those things. You're supposed to be dark, and bitter, and cynical...

And yet, here you are. All excited and joyful as you play with your secret friend.

Playing...with a friend...just too weird...

My friend had a very happy, if not entirely functional, childhood until their family moved to the city. My childhood...it was all just preparation for my fate. There's was nothing to look fondly back on. But that didn't matter. My friend shared every happy little memory with me, and I felt like I was there. I was out there in the country, in a farmhouse with far too many pets to count. Woods and old barns were are playgrounds, our own little worlds. Winter days were eternally white. Summer nights were illuminated by fireflies and a late sunset. And every time the new leaves grew and the old leaves died, we were always awe-struck by the transformation.

I can only imagine...

For a moment, I think I found the book I'm looking for, but no such luck. And I turn a worried glance back at that gap. And my heart sinkers further.

I walk away, trying to salvage some hope. Not that there is much.

I go back to the occult section and grab a volume of the Oculus Pullus, absentmindedly flipping through the pages. I don't feel much like reading. I just feel like sulking. There's only one all-consuming thing on my mind, and I'm helpless to do anything about it. All I can do is wallow in self pity until I stop feeling like this.

With an audible thud, I close the tome and return it to it's proper place. I guess I should return to my proper place, too. But...

I check one last time. It's silly, but I want to think that somehow, everything will turn out okay in the end. I know it won't, but I want to believe.

The empty space on the shelf has been filled, and with the book I had in mind. And sure enough, I see what I'm looking for poking out of the pages.

I find the message tucked away in Macbeth, towards the end.

Macbeth is arguably William Shakespeare's most popular work.

As well as his shortest tragedy.

But it's only a work of fiction.

I smile again.


	13. Scraped

Scraped

It's downright absurd that dark little demonseed me has healing powers. I don't really think of myself as the healing type, but it feels like I've become the team's official medic lately. I suppose we could use a medic, but I feel more like a nursemaid looking after children. Wasn't it just this morning that I healed a papercut Starfire had?

A...mother loving...papercut...

"Easy, Terra...easy..."

I try to hide a little more behind my book when I hear a loud thud on the coffee table.

"Beast Boy!"

"Sorry, sorry! Hey, Rae, can you fix up Terra?"

I peak out from my book, ever-so-slightly, and look at Terra, who's looking back at me with pouting lips and big, tearful eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"I scraped my knee." she whimpers, pointing down at her wound.

I stare at her.

"I was putting in some extra time on the training course," she says with the occasion sob and hiccup, "And I just as I got to the finish line, I tripped and fell!"

I cast a quick glance at her knee.

"You just need some peroxide and a bandage."

"But that stuff stings!"

I...continue to stare at her.

"You have got to be fricking kidding me."

"It's true, Raven!" Beast Boy whines, trying to look like he was on the verge of crying, "It really stings! Didn't you ever scrape anything when you were little?"

"No."

"What, really?"

The second I look at her, Terra realizes she spoke in a normal tone and big tears well up in her eyes.

"Dude...like, you never scraped a knee or something when you running around with all the other little monklings?"

"I didn't run around, and there weren't any 'monklings'. And that scrape isn't a big deal, Terra. Just go clean and dress it. I'm sure you'll somehow conquer your owwie."

One would expect them to leave right about now.

"You _never_ got hurt as a kid?"

But I didn't.

"No. Never."

"Getting banged up is part of being a kid!" Terra preaches, "When I was little, I was always getting hurt!"

"There's a word for that, Terra: Masochism."

"I never _tried_ to get hurt! It was just...y'know, kid stuff. Like this time I fell out of a tree and broke my arm, or the time I hit in the face with a baseball and had to get stitches."

"Dude!" Beast Boy winced, "Stitches?!"

"Yup. Five. Just above my left eyebrow. You can see the scar if-"

"DUDE! No way! Girls aren't supposed to have...stitches, and scars, and stuff!"

"Except the emotional kind." I mutter.

"You wanna see my scar, Raven?" she says with a morbid grin.

"That's alright."

...It's such a different place here. Terra fondly reminiscing on all the times she's been injured seems...dysfunctional. And daring Beast Boy to touch her scar is just...

Ew.

My childhood was uneventful, even if it shaped me into who I am today. But she makes me wonder, now, what I missed out on. Can you really look back on pain and laugh about it? Can cuts and bruises somehow make us a little more well adjusted?

Maybe this is silly, maybe it's absurd, but...

I'm scared of getting hurt.

I look up from my book. They're still there, still looking at me.

"What?"

Their lips curl down and their eyes water up.

"You don't think this is abusing my power? Just a little?"

"Nope!" they chime.

With a deep sigh, I hold my hand over Terra's knee, and in seconds, it's healed.

"There. Now run along and play."

As Terra gets up, she grabs me by my free hand.

"Wha-"

"C'mon. You're playing with us."

"Uh...what makes you think that?"

"You need to get out. All you've ever done since I've been here is sit around and read."

And Beast Boy joins in this assault on my peace and quiet, pushing me from behind as Terra drags me from the front.

"C'mon, Rae! A little fresh air and sunshine isn't gonna kill ya!"

"I don't know about that..." I mutter.

When the sun sets, I'm weary, and dusty, and covered in small scrapes and bruises. But those two swore under penalty of death that I could take a bath in peace tonight.

A small moan escapes my lips as my battered and bruised body sinks into the tub. I keep blaming Beast Boy and Terra for my current state, but really, I'm the only one to blame. I could have put up more resistance. I could have _not_ let them drag me along like their plaything.

But I didn't. And I'm sore all over, as consequence. But...I can feel the blood coursing through my veins, and I can feel each breath I draw. And my body feels a warmth it's not used to.

I smile a little, for the most peculiar reason.

I feel alive.


	14. Regret

Regret

Regret is pointless.

The past is always long gone. Looking at it won't bring it back. It won't let you undo what you've done.

None of us live without things we wished we had done differently. Sometimes, these things are simple. Sometimes, these things change everything. They define us, make us realize who we really are.

Everything that could have been different, it's all flooding my mind as I look at you.

It would be easier if everything were black and white. If nothing could have been different, I wouldn't be here. I could be back home, lost in books and meditation. I wouldn't feel...

Hurt...

It hurts...being here...

How did things turn out the way they are? I knew the truth, but I couldn't bring myself to accept it.

What couldn't I accept? That I couldn't live forever in my own little world, where nothing ever changes? We catch the same villains, we go through the same routines, and no one ever tries to change that. Is that what I really wanted? Was I...

Was I too scared to let someone new close?

Well, my fears were justified. But I should be honest with myself. I wasn't scared by the thought of you being a double agent or anything like that. I was scared that...

Am I really going to admit it?

Alright...

I was scared of being hurt.

I know entirely too well what it is to betray those closest to you. It was something that was taught to me as soon as I was able to utter my first words. There were nights of unrest were the thought of betrayal haunted my little mind. And the story of my birth...the things my mother warned me of...

I was terrified to let anyone close.

To be close is to be vulnerable...but...

You knew that, didn't you?

Some empath I am. You didn't shut yourself away from the world like I did, but you knew that so much better than I did. Still, you put on a smile and tried getting close.

But the scars ran too deep...

Too deep for any of us to do anything about it...

It hurt so much, that fateful day. Every secret fear looked me in the eyes as I was buried alive. And I lied. I lied like my I've never lied before. I wanted so desperately to hide my pain and hurt you right back.

I wanted to pretend that I didn't feel you late at night, crying for reasons I couldn't understand. I wanted to pretend that I never trusted you, and I saw through every lie, and...

Most of all...

I wanted to pretend I didn't accept you.

I guess it was just the fear venturing a little more out of my shell. Honestly, I do wonder what it would be like to be more like you. To be more outgoing, more capable of expressing myself.

But honestly?

I'm scared. I don't want to be hurt. I just stick to want I'm used to.

And honestly?

I was a little envious. Maybe I was used to being the quiet one who always locked herself away in her room, but that's not to say I didn't want to change my character sometimes. There are times when I want to escape myself, if only for a short time, and...just be something I'm not.

You did, too. But yours wasn't just a small whim. You tried so hard to overcome your own faults. You tried harder than I ever did. I wish...

Just between us?

I wish I tried harder, too.

But...I think I have grown up a little more since we last met. A lot has happened. Things I wish I could change, thing I don't. The good, the bad, they have all been learning experiences. I want to say I promise to you that I will never repeat that mistake, but...there's something else. What I really want to ask...

No matter what I said...

No matter what I did...

Could you ever forgive me?

I can't look you in the eyes when I say that. I don't want to know. I can't...

Well, it's time to go. I'll leave you be, now.

"Goodbye..." I whisper ever-so-quietly to no one that can hear.

I walk back and get back inside the car.

"Did you see her?" Cyborg asks.

"No." I lie, "All blondes look alike to me, though."

"Yeah, me neither. Guess Beast Boy really didn't see her. Let's head home."

I look in the mirror, as the sun begins to set and the last school bell of the day rings, and...

And...

It hurts.

Terra still watches me, even as we drive out of sight.


	15. Bang

Bang

Against my own will, my body tenses. The scent of blood and gunpowder is...

I can smell it. That, alone, I don't like.

I don't sense him. I can sense traces of his presense, but...

Am...

Am I shaking?

Alright...maybe I'm shaking...but a moment's focus and I stop.

In all our fights with super powered villains, the fatalities have been shocking few and far between. But one lone, all-too-human young man with a light calibur gun or two has already killed ten people that we know of.

Maybe later I'll appreciate the irony of this.

There's a member of the faculty collapsed in front of the door I'm about to head into. All too late to I notice him take his last breath.

Eleven...

I open the door...

And I dart out of a portal adjent to it, to throw off the gunman if he's there. Which he isn't.

Why does that fill me with any measure of relief?

I quietly, cautiously walk down the halls. If I'm so concerned with staying quiet, I should float, but...I don't know. Something is just...

I silently curse as I hear the communicator go off. Why haven't we installed vibrator functions in these things yet?

"Status check." says Robin.

There's something...off...about his voice. There's a sense of urgency, of course, but...

"Only traces of his presense." I say, "He's most likely moved on."

There's a short pause before he continues.

"Starfire?"

"I-I...I am afraid I have nothing to report."

Starfire is in shock. Part of me wonders if she's ever seen this sort of carnage before, but that thought will have to wait.

"Cyborg?"

"Nothing here. Both bodies and brass are cold."

Cyborg's mindset is all business. Maybe it's because his brain is have digital, but...

Stop it, Raven. Your mind's wandering.

"Beast Boy?"

A second passes.

Another.

Another.

"Hold on! Just lemme get this, okay?"

I almost sigh when I finally see his image. He's outside the school, reassuring someone offscreen.

"Dude...I...got a survivor...okay, there's the paramedics, cutie. Okay, look, I can't find the guy, and...I have a sensative nose...can I check outside?"

"Beast Boy!" barks Robin, "We can't-"

"THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE!" Beast Boy snaps back, "I can't take it! It's...messing with my sense of smell! I can't get his scent! I need some...fresh air or something..."

Another second passes.

"Alright. Patrol the outside. Robin out."

And now I go about the grim take of searching the halls...

And counting the dead...

I check in one classroom.

Sixteen.

I check another.

Twenty two.

Back out in the hallway...

Twenty six.

...Azur above, why am I _counting?!_ I shouldn't...I know I shouldn't, but I can't...

Why is this getting to me? Shouldn't dark, morbid little me not be affected by the sort of thing? I've certainly read of worse things than mere gunshot wounds, I've dreamt of even worse...and yet...

Azur...

Mother...

I'm scared...

Just in front of the girl's restroom is a stick-thin blonde girl, lying on her back. On her abdomain, a blossom of red slowly blooms from the virginal white clothe of her uniform. And through the outpouring of tears, she's looking up at me in hopeful desperation.

I should teleport her out to the paramedics, but...I need to heal her myself.

No, that's not...

No. I _need_ to.

I didn't know I was capable of it, but ever-so-softly, ever-so-gently, I comfort the poor thing. I'm not sure if she's trying to say something. She's sobbing so hard. Not just the pain of her wound...maybe more than the pain...it was shock. Horror. This shouldn't have happened. Why did this happen?

I don't know. I wish I did.

But honestly, a tiny part of me never wants to know.

The bullet inside her complicates things a little, but I successfully remove it and her wound closes. That does precious little to stop her sobbing. She manages to calm down enough to gesture to the restroom.

I teleport her to safety and check the restroom.

Twenty nine.

I can delve into the darkest literature. I can dream of nothing but a macabre parade of dismembered and disfigured corpses, all burning brightly with flesh-seering Hellfire. I can even tell myself again and again that I'm going to trigger the Apocalypse, but...

I don't want to be here.

Not in this place.

Not in this world.

I want to be in the sanctity of Azurath. My old home was calm and quiet. The occassional cool breeze would carry with the scent of flowers and herbs unique to the gardens there, and it would gently wind it's way around the smooth stone buildings. And from my room, I could watch the sun set in the amber sky. And I would be safe and secure...

I really wish I was anywhere but here right now.

...A gunshot.

I race around the corner to see number thirty and...

_"Jesus Christ?! Why-"_

BANG!

Another student falls.

Thirty one.

If I had only acted a moment sooner, I...

I take a good look at the monster we've been hunting, and...I almost want to laugh. A trenchcoat? Sunglasses? Camoflague fatigues? Are you kidding me?

_Are you kidding me?!_

The sheer aburdity of it...this stereotypically angst ridden youth...

A teacher whose knowledge will never be passed down...

A student will never go on to try and change the world...

A fourteen year old girl that's never going to reach fifteen...

Thirty one lives ended...

And why?

What...conceivable...reason...

He's a little surprised to see me. A little amused, even. But his stony face doesn't betray that. Without a word, he lifts his gun and fires.

It takes about five or six shots before he realizes the futility of his actions. At least I was able to act in time to throw up a shield, which is more than enough to defend me. And when he realizes that someone capable of defending themselves is more than a match for him, he calmly places the gun to his temple.

Only to have it ripped out of his hand.

I'm shaking again, but I'm not afraid.

This...thing...this arrogant, self centered little man...

Can you give me any justifable reason why _anyone_ had to suffer because of your personal problems?

I stare at him..._into_ him...

And I start seeing red...

There was no grand scheme here. No schemes to carry out a heist or plots take over the city. No...it was all...

Pointless...

Just a petty little man with petty little problems who couldn't stand the fact that the world would continue without him...

It...makes me sick...

...I...

...Something in me snaps...and a terrible urge wells up inside me...

...And everything is red...

...I smile as he realizes he's the inferior monster...as he realizes he doesn't know anything of true suffering...

To my surprise, he has a second gun. But little good it will do against me.

Except...

BANG!

...It wasn't for me...

...Thirty two.

I've counted thirty two lives lost for no reason.

The monster is slain, but that doesn't comfort me.

* * *

It's a long drive home. An unnatural silence is a passenger with us.

Then Beast Boy smiles a little as he holds up a piece of paper.

"Scored the number of that girl I rescued."

"That's not right." Cyborg solemnly says.

Beast Boy's smile quickly dies.

But then Cyborg points at the bloodstain on his uniform.

"Got red on you."

Beast Boy looks down, and...

A second passes...

"DUDE! So wrong! That is so beyond wrong!"

...To my surprise, Robin covers...what appeared to be a growing grin...

"Hey, you got the digits of a girl who _nearly died_. It's just karma, little man."

"Dude! Just...EW!"

"Relax. I know how to get blood out."

"No way! No freakin' way! I am _burning_ this thing when we get home!"

"It's just a little blood, BB."

"No it's not! It's...oh man...w-why aren't the windows rolling down?! Cy, I swear, I'm gonna blow chunks in here if you don't lemme roll down the freakin' window!"

...Things return to their state of semi-normalcy.

For most of us.

Starfire just stares down at her lap, hands neatly folded. She's still trying to understand what happened.

...I'm not. Innocence isn't a luxury I have.

"Starfire?"

Starfire does, though.

I place my hand on hers and make a silent promise to myself.

"We'll get through this together."


	16. Needs

Needs

Believe it or not, even I think it isn't healthy to stay in my room too much. That's why I come out into the Main Room to read sometimes. It's my own strange form of social interaction, I guess. I know I may complain, I know I may never get any reading done when anyone's around, but...

I guess it's just one of those things that needs to be done.

And speak of the Devil, someone's just entered...

Terra.

We still haven't gotten use to each others' presence. She hesitates for a moment before realizing I'm not, as Cyborg once put it, "go all Scanners on her". She takes a seat far, far down on the other side of the couch, grabs the remote, and gives me another worried look.

"Go ahead." I mutter, not too sure or too caring if she heard me.

Regardless, she turns on the TV, flipping aimlessly through the channels.

For a moment, I wonder if I should leave the room. Things are still a little tense between us. But I decide to just ignore her. Not that she's bothering me at the moment. Things are just fine right-

"Hey, Raven? You think maybe you could, like, teach me some meditation techniques or something sometime?"

I turn a page.

"I mean, not that I have control problems any more. I just heard you and Star meditate sometimes, and...y'know, thought we could do some female bonding. Or, y'know, whatever."

I keep reading.

"Or hey! You rollerblade? It's been a while, but I'm thinking about teaching Star how to rollerblade. Uh...don't suppose you want me to teach you?"

I read.

"Yeah...didn't think so. Um...maybe...I could teach you how I..."

I read.

"N-No, nevermind. You...probably don't..."

Turn a page.

"Well, can we do something together? Maybe...I dunno..."

Read.

"Nevermind. Forget it."

Read.

Time passes.

"Heh...are you always this grouchy, or do you just hate blondes?"

Read.

"Hey, I'm not exactly the cheerleader type, y'know! I've always been more of a tomboy. Or a 'Daisy Duke', as they used to call me in this one town. See, it was this real hot summer, and...oh man..."

Read.

"I thought I looked cool, but my foster mom at the time _freaked out!_ I was sitting out on the porch, sucking on a popsicle in these tiny shorts and this shirt that was cut off just short of my prepubescent boobs...and I was totally clueless how lolicon I looked!"

Turn a page.

"Uh, don't ask how I know that term. Just...y'know, something I picked up."

Read.

"So..."

Read.

Silence.

Silence?

"I don't get it."

No more silence.

"You're not the first person to hate me...just like that. I've moved around a lot, and there are always those kids who don't give me a chance. They...they just get on my case for no reason!"

...A pause.

"It's not fair."

Read.

"Even before I mess everything up, they hate me."

Another pause.

"I just want to be friends, but...what? Am I not good enough?! What stupid standards to I have to live up to?! Sometimes, I really gotta wonder if I should bother!"

"Even the people who give me a chance turn their backs on me if I make one dumb mistake."

"So, why do you hate me, Raven?"

"What's your problem with me? Would you like me if I dyed my hair black and moped around? Or...should I not bother at all? I wasn't around at the beginning, so I can just go to Hell? Is that it?"

"What? Am I not good enough to talk to, now?!"

"Raven! Quit ignoring me!"

"SAY SOMETHING!"

...Terra covers her mouth and quickly turns away.

"S-Sorry..."

From the short time I've known her, I've concluded Terra is an emotional, tempermental girl. I thought if I just let her be, she would be fine. I really don't want hurt her feelings, but...

It's difficult...

Wait, is she crying?

She's trying to keep it quiet, but...

Why is she crying? Azur above, I didn't say anything! I completely left her alone! What in the world does she have to cry about? I try not to hurt her, but I still end up...

I shut my book and get up.

Terra gives a startled gasp. I think this is an unfamiliar feeling for the both of us.

Terra, with someone else's arms around her...

And me, with my arms around someone...

"Tell anyone about this and I will absolutely go all 'Scanners' on you."

She just sits there in silent shock as I walk away.

Yes, maybe it was out of character, but she needed that.


	17. Choice

Choice

This horrible feeling is gripping my chest again. It quickens my breath. It makes me shake. I feel this urge to run away.

At least for a few hours...

It's a late summer's night. Just now is the sun being to set. Everything is strangely subdued. Not quiet- because cities are never entirely quite- but everything moves along slowly, the usual ambient noises little more than a lazy moan. And oddly enough, no one's harassing me. I guess we've become so commonplace that a girl walking around town in a cloak doesn't so much as raise an eyebrow anymore.

Well, that's entirely fine with me. Especially at the moment, when I really want time to slow down. I want everything to drift along like the clouds in the amber sky I'm looking up at.

But no. Time is always marching on at it's own pace. Thinking about that tightens my chest again.

I have to make this choice soon...

There are days I want to just walk away from everything. Sometimes, I secretly wish I could restart my life...just because. I would just walk away, far away, to some place where I knew no one and no one knew me. My life would be mine and mine alone.

And I wouldn't have to make choices like this...

"Hm hm hm hmhmm..."

...A song pops into my head. I don't know the words, but I unconsciously hum along to the tune.

"Carnival of Rust", I think it was called. She was listening to it once. She was curled up on the couch, lazily staring off into nothingness. I wanted to ask her to turn it up, but...

...Would you believe boldness isn't my strong suite? Dry wit doesn't open you up. It's a defensive tactic, casually striking from afar with a well-timed comment. And that's how I prefer things: Afar. I'm one to quietly watch things play out. It's my nature. But...sometimes, I want to move in closer...

And...just maybe...

A few giggling girls around my age pass by across the street. On a day like this, they've probably been out and about, doing...whatever it is girls my age do. Hanging out at the mall, trying on age inappropriate clothes, and many other things I'd never do in this lifetime. And now there's probably off to sneak into a bar with a fake I.D.

Wow. I don't understand my generation _at all_.

I remember that one time she showed me that fake I.D. she made. She was grinning and proudly presenting it like a medal of valor. She said she was going to try to get into some club using it that night, but I think she lost her nerve.

...Now, why does that sound familiar?

With each step I take away from the Tower, I feel...less comfortable. I know I must have been to every corner of this city at least once, but everything looks so foreign. I quietly long for the familiarity and safety of my room. My room, where the population is one and everything is in it's proper place because I put it there. My tiny utopia, where everything is mine and mine alone...

...Alright. Even I have to admit that maybe I spent too much time in my room. And maybe...I do need human contact now and again. And maybe I should reach out for it, instead of hoping it floats in my direction.

...I sigh.

As I walk back home, everything is so subdued. The cars pass by with a hushed breeze. Ever-so-slowly, dark orange fades into indigo, and the streetlights flicker to life.

And my chest gets tighter.

It would be so much easier if I would just I just head straight to my room and finish the usual motions of the day. But...honestly, this is something I need to do. I've been putting it off for too long. I just need to summon up the courage, and...

...What if she turns me down? What would the point be if that happened? I will have made myself vulnerable, and have nothing but a tiny little scar to show for it. No one's going to notice if I just quietly head to my room and lock myself away for the night. There's no harm in that.

...But here I am, my little hand clenched as I wonder if I should knock on her door or not. Please, dear Azar, don't let her open the door, seeing me standing here, looking so damned meek and nervous as I-

"Raven?"

"Starfire?!"

...Well, isn't that just lovely? And tell me, Raven, what lesson have we learned here?

"It's strange that one would find you in front of Terra's door. Why are..."

...She's smiling.

"Do you wish to do the 'hanging out' with our friend Terra?"

Well, I suppose she couldn't remain sweetly naive forever, could she?

"No, it's...it's just that I-"

Starfire doesn't even wait for my hasty excuse before knocking on Terra's door. And when she opens the door, she's greeted by the sight of Starfire pushing an uncharacteristically meek me front and center.

"H-Hey."

"Hey."

Terra just stands there, waiting for me to say something. Starfire nudges me, as if I'm some shy child trying to ask someone on a playground if I could play with them.

...Azar above, that's what it is, isn't it? This is so not right. I'm not supposed to be vulnerable, especially in front of Terra. And yet, here I am, nervously bunching up my cloak in one hand.

"You know that...movie you wanted to see?"

She raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

...And she waits for me to continue.

Oh, come on! It's obvious, Terra! Just reach out and...

"Nevermind. Forget I said anything."

I quickly retreat, Terra and Starfire looking on with confusing. I don't think either of them notice the ticket that mysteriously found it's way to Terra's feet.

Well, I made my choice. I can live with it.


	18. Inx

Inx

Lately, I've been going out more. Whether it's some subconscious desire to lead a richer life or just claustrophobia setting in is anyone's guess, but here I am.

In the park.

In public.

Paranoia grips me ever-so-slightly, but I slowly find myself relaxing. I'm under the shade of a tree, of course, away from the numerous park denizens. A quiet little place of my own, without the usual locked door that's become my security blanket.

This...does not feel right...

I swallow hard. I feel too vulnerable out here. Time to-

The wind carries a sheet of paper with it, which I quickly grab. I take a quick look around for anyone who might have lost it, and take a look.

...A unicorn? Not my thing, but the artist certainly has a considerable amount of talent.

...A _unicorn?_ Unless this is the work of a child prodigy, what grown person draws _unicorns?_ I can just imagine there's a socially awkward, hopelessly single woman with thick glasses and a collection of porcelain animals desperately searching for this.

As I stare at this drawing...I frown a bit. In the dark little world I inhabit, whimsical nonsense like unicorns are grossly out of place. It makes me think about a childhood that never was. It makes me look at the children here in the park, and reminds me I was that age, too, in a time long since past...

...A pause.

I turn my attention back outwards, back to the picture of what is basically a mutant horse in my hands.

Then I turn my attention to a blur of pink I see out of the corner of my eye.

...Jinx...

I'm not going to bother asking what she's doing out of jail, but I am curious as to what she's...looking...

...There is _no way_...

There's a sudden look of dread. She runs to the nearest trashcan and dives in, her stocking legs comically dangling out. She pops back out seconds later, dread replaced with a mix of astonishment and grief.

I tell myself that the former H.I.V.E. valedictorian has been reduced to a bumbling thief, and whatever she stole was lost in some comedy of errors. That seems like the most logical, viable answer.

...Until I see Jinx snatch another piece of paper up from another strong breeze and quickly attend to a leather-bound book overstuffed with loose pages.

It was at that moment that I realized Jinx drew unicorns.

...I had to look back at what I was holding in my hands. Yes, it was a unicorn. Not some hell-spawned, maggot spewing abomination of a beast, but a beautiful, graceful creature out of high fantasy.

And Jinx drew it.

...I...

...I want to rip it. Just tear it in half, with a sick grin on my lips. And right in front of her.

Or what if I pretended to hand it to her, then trample it into the ground?

Or maybe...

A parade of cruel, twisted thoughts plays out in my mind. I know I'm being petty, maybe even childish...but there would be some small measure of karmic retribution in it, right? For all the grief she's caused everyone in this city, a little grief of her own.

...A pause...

...A sting...

...Azur above...she isn't going to cry, is she?

She hangs her head and rubs her eyes. She crosses her arms, only to uncross them the moment another strong breeze kicks up. She clutches her notebook to her chest and takes one last, deep breath.

...This drawing...

I guess you had a childhood too, didn't you?

...I'm going to hate myself for this.

"Hey..."

Her eyes lock onto the piece of paper in my outstretched and she smiles a wide smile. Her hands quickly dart out and pluck it from my grasp, not pausing for a moment to notice just who it was in front of her.

"Oh my God! Thank you _so_ much! You have no idea how hard I-"

Her Cheshire smile drops when she looks up at me.

I blink.

She blinks.

"So...yeah. Thanks."

"Y-Yeah..."

She clutches her body of work tightly to her chest, lithe fingers wrapped around her binder.

A few steps back, and I turn. I bite my lip and...

In a tiny voice, I say...

Nevermind. I feel too vulnerable out here. Time to go home.

I think I might try my hand at painting, again...


	19. Curse

Curse

"Raven?"

I look up from my book to see Starfire in front of me.

"Seeing as how you are a most devoted bibliophile, perhaps you can assist me in learning the meaning of this word?"

"Sure, Starfire." I say as I put my book down, "What-"

She hands me a piece of paper, and I take a look at the word in question.

Oh...dear God.

"Starfire...where did you learn this word?"

"I was reading through the vast works of fiction Beast Boy introduced me to..."

"_Fan_ fiction?" I grimace.

"Yes! I thought that I might perform a search using our names, and I happened across of number of stories that used this word...as well as speaking much of the consumption of cats, for reasons unknown."

"Okay, I think..."

"And when I expanded my searching, I discovered the word used in other stories revolving around the pairings of two female characters, the touching and devouring of felines remaining a constant. And when I proceeded to investigate the Google..."

"_Starfire!_"

...My temples throb. The day just became a whole lot longer.

"I know what Robin would have done, so did you ask Cyborg or..."

I pause.

"Did you go to Cyborg?"

"Yes. He adamantly proclaimed that he refused to make physical contact the subject- even with a pole that was approximately ten feet in length- and suggested that I wiki the pedia. I did so, but the results of my inquiry proved fruitless."

"You...didn't go to Beast Boy with this, did you?"

"No. I shall go-"

I jump up and grab her arm just as she starts to leave.

"_No!_ For the love of everything holy, Starfire, don't say anything to him about this."

"Then please, Raven, will you enlighten me as to the meaning of this word?"

With a deep, deep breath, I speak.

"Um..."

Another deep breath.

"Alright. Um...do they have...curse words on Tamaran?"

"Yes." she nods, "I-Is this a word of curse?! Are there truly so many that condemn us?!"

"W-Wait, no..." I stutter out as tears begin to well up in her eyes, "It's not like that. It's...do they have words on Tamaran that children aren't allowed to speak?"

"Well, there are certain words uttered during great battle rites which the young and inexperienced are not allowed to utter."

"Uh, not quite what I mean."

I rest my head on my hand as I try figure out how to be rid of this problem, one way or another.

"That word...it's a bad word..."

She squeals and drops the piece of paper the word in question in written on.

"A bad word?" she whispers.

"It's not...well, I guess it sort of is..._that_ bad...alright. It's-"

"Raven? Can a word truly be so full of malevolence that it can, indeed, be...bad?"

"It's not like that. It's...well, remember the time when I told Beast Boy to 'go to Hell'?"

"Yes. There are numerous time you cursed our friend-"

She gasps.

"So...this _is_ a word that is meant to condemn? B-But in the stories I read, all parties involved seemed to derive great pleasure from-"

"No, no! It's not like that! Not in the context you found it in, at least."

"Is context important?"

"For many words in the English language, yes. That word...it's generally considered a vulgar term for..."

I tense up.

"Sexual intercourse." I say in the absolute tiniest, quietest voice I can.

Starfire's eyes widen as a whole new world opens up to her.

And she smiles.

A gleefully wide, gleefully disturbing smile.

"I have read stories of you and I having-"

"_Don't_...say it..."

"And you and Jinx-"

"Don't...Jinx?"

"And you and Terra-"

"Terra?! And why is it always _me_? Why am _I_ the one in all these scenarios?"

"I am uncertain, but I also found a number of im-"

I cover my ears and close my eyes.

"Raven?"

But, hiding away in my own psyche, I'm still not safe. Starfire has firmly planted certain ideas in my head, and despite fancying myself to be so mature and stoic, I'm nigh helpless to stop them from taking form.

...Damn you, Starfire.

"Have I said or done something to offend you?"

Damn everyone who put those ideas in that sugary sweet head of yours.

"Have you not wondered what it would be like if..."

I retreat to the sanctity of my room.

Damn it all to Hell...


	20. Slumber

**Slumber**

My eyes open just in time to catch the hands of the clock click, pointing straight up.

Midnight.

It seems darker than it should be. Winter clouds obscure the night stars. The cold and snow calm the flow of activity in the city. I should sleep very well on a night like this. But...

I can't. So I sit up, slip my feet into my slippers, and go to my bookcase. I know where each book is, so it's not as if the darkness is hindering me as I scan over the shelves. But, as strange as it is, I feel an ever-so-rare craving for light and sound. Perhaps a lullaby of infomercials and trashy late night movies will cure this sudden insomnia.

I peek out my head, as if I have any reason to sneak about, and go to the living room.

Now that I think about it, this is the first time I've watched TV this late at night. And it's the first time I've ever been out in the living room this late.

And all too late do I remember the exact number of steps.

I catch myself in mid-fall and wait a moment longer for my eyes to adjust to the pitch black. I think it's a reasonable assumption that the dark blob in from of me is the couch, so I run my along it, guiding myself around to the front. And as I sit down...

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"AAAHHHHH!"

A bright flash of color blinds me, and a symphony of screams threatens to wake the dead, not to mention everyone in the Tower.

I sat on the remote. Well, that problem solved, at least.

I fumble with it, the volume bar dropping as I hastily pound on the respective button. I blink a few times, the afterimage not burned quite as deeply as I thought.

What in the world is Peewee's Playhouse doing on at this hour?

I casually flip around. A forensics show would appease morbid little me at the moment.

My ineptness with the remote manifests itself as I end up changing the channel to something...that is most certainly not a forensics show. Even though there's no one to see, I frantically pound random buttons and hope I don't change the channel to something worse. Thankfully, I seem to have landed on a late night news program.

But not before Terra sees what just happened.

I can see her reflection on the screen. She's in a t-shirt and sweatpants, blanket draped on her shoulders, staring at the screen with mouth wide open.

Or is she staring at me?

I sink a little. As I hold the remote in my hands, it seems nearly twice its size now. And it's laughing at me. And all I can do is shrink in my seat and hope to hide from the world.

"Was that softcore porn?"

And I fail at that.

"That looked like softcore porn."

I look at Terra and the reflection of her growing grin, then I stare at the remote.

Oh, if only inanimate objects could feel pain...

"I was looking for dead bodies." I drone.

Her snickering leaks out from her lips as she approaches.

"Then why-"

"I hit the wrong button. There are so many buttons on this monstrosity."

She sits next to me, pulling up her legs and wrapping herself up in a blanket cocoon.

And she's staring. Just staring with a huge smile.

"Seriously. I was looking for a forensics show, it's dark...look at the size of this thing. Why are there so many buttons? Does it really need all these buttons?"

If her smile gets any bigger, her head is going to split in half.

"Alright," I sigh, "I'll say it. Yes, I was watching pornography, and you interrupted my hour long session of pleasuring myself. Curses and damnation."

Finally, the laughter she's been holding back breaks through.

"I know you're kidding..." she squeezes out, "But...oh man...you...do you even have those kinds of feelings?"

"What kind of feelings?"

"Y'know..." she nudges, "_Those_ kind..."

I wordlessly flip through the channels.

"You...do feel, uh..._those_ kind of things, right?"

Not a word.

"Oh yeah. Your powers are controlled by emotion, so...hey! I can totally help you with that!"

I...just have to look at her.

"What?"

"NO! Oh, no! I mean..."

She pauses for a moment, perhaps trying to gauge my blank expression.

"Forget I said anything."

I continue flipping through channels, not entirely sure what I'm looking for.

"Man, I've gotten soft."

"Hmm?"

"I was never this sensitive to the cold before. Guess I've been living in a real home for too long. Isn't the cold getting to you?"

"I rather like the cold, actually. But I can turn up the heat, if you want."

"That's okay. I like snuggling up in my blanket."

She suddenly blushes.

"That sounds kiddy, doesn't it?"

"A little."

I pause a moment in my search for nothing in particular.

"What's it like?"

"What? You mean...snuggling up?"

"Uh...yeah."

A few seconds pass.

"It's...snuggly...and warm..."

I change the channel one last time, ending up on an old black and white movie.

"So...can't sleep?"

"Nope."

"I'm guessing it's because of Fang."

Terra grimaces at the mention of the name.

"That guy...was just wrong. I'm not a big fan of spiders."

"That certainly explains why you hurled sizable chunks of earth at him and screamed 'Die, spider, die!'."

She shudders.

"I had flashbacks. I was camping out this one time, and I felt something tickling my leg, and...the hairiest tarantula in the desert was crawling on my leg! Up my leg, up my shorts! And...and it got in my shorts! And I wasn't wearing any underwear!"

I blink.

"I threw off my shorts, and I ran around, bare butt naked from the waist down while some perv spider made a nest out of my shorts!"

We turn to the sudden giggling behind us.

"Forgive me! I...hehe...I did not mean to...to drop the ease!"

A nightshirt clad Starfire tries not to spill the contents of her mug as she struggles to control her giggling.

"Hey, Star! Heh. Kinda turning into a slumber party, isn't it?"

"But we are not slumbering, nor is there celebration."

"No, it's not like that. Raven's never..."

Terra pauses, remembering I'm Raven, and Raven doesn't do slumber parties.

"Oh, right. So, whatcha doin' up?"

"Only recently have I realized this is the first time I have witnessed the winter season of this planet. Witnessing this marvelous transition in the environment has filled me with excitement, thus making it difficult for me to acquire sleep. I have tried drinking heated bovine lactations, but..."

"Wait..." I say, "The last time you drank warm milk..."

She jumps over the couch and clutches us both to her bosom like a child's beloved dolls.

"Yes!" she gleefully squeals, "It has the opposite of the desired effect, making me increasingly active, increasing my desire for social interaction and loosening inhibitions! Oh, I am so glad you two are awake!"

"Loosening inhibitions?" whispers Terra.

"She's...a little tipsy." I whisper back, "Hyper and tipsy."

"Friends! Would you like to join me in n-"

"NO! You aren't doing..._that_ again."

"Doing what?"

I cast a gaze over at Starfire.

"Nude flying."

Terra...just looks at me.

"You...don't mean..."

"Yes!" says Starfire with a eager grin on her lips, "Flying nude!"

"Yeah. Still not happening, Starfire."

I...should probably explain this to Terra.

"She was new here. She didn't know it's not socially acceptable to fly around naked in the middle of the night."

"Or shower together!" giggles Starfire.

...I couldn't just stay in my room, could I?

"So..." Terra says after a suspiciously long pause, "Why are you up, Raven?"

"Aside from reveling in the implied lesbianism, I don't really know. I just couldn't sleep."

Terra and I look at Starfire, who looks ready to burst with rapid flow of noise and nonsense.

_"They're coming to get you, Barbara!"_

But then our attention snaps to the television screen.

"Night of the Living Dead." I say.

"The original black and white version." Terra adds.

Neither of us notice Starfire look at us inquisitively and loosen her grip.

"Could you make some popcorn, Star?" ask Terra

"It's in the second cupboard, middle shelf." I point out.

She looks a little dejected that we aren't paying attention to her (not that we notice), but she nods and complies.

"So you're not sustained solely by tea." Terra mutters, much more focused on the movie than her joke.

"Mm hmm." I answer.

And then we both fall silent. There's the sound of popcorn popping in the background, followed by Starfire giggling as her nightshirt flies over the couch and lands on the coffee table, but we don't notice.

And I don't notice the blanket someone puts on me as I drift to sleep, or whose lap I use as a pillow. I don't notice at all.

Then morning comes...

"STARFIRE!"


	21. Breasts

Breasts

Breasts

I will now and forever denounce cosmetic surgery. It's pointless and vain beyond words, and it disgusts me to no end.

But...if it's done out of modesty, and not out of some twisted fad...I wonder...

I look over my shoulder, and pray no one walks in on me. Especially not...

The door to the Main Room opens.

Maybe if I just stay quiet, whoever it is will-

"Starfire..."

I see her reflection on the monitor.

"Pardon me. I was merely passing by, and-"

"Uh huh." I drone in my usual monotone way, "Keep passing."

"Forgive me. I merely glanced out of purest curiosity, and..."

Ever-so-slightly, she leans in a little more, eyeing what it is I'm looking at on the computer.

"Raven...are you feeling well?"

"As well as usual."

Suddenly, big tears well up her wide emerald eyes.

...What did I do?

"Raven...you would tell me if...you were suffering from any afflictions, correct?"

"Yes. Why are you..."

...Oh, just kill me now.

"Starfire, it's not _that_ kind of- Look, just forget you saw anything."

"But dearest friend! If you are suffering from any ailment, please tell me! Why is that you need..."

Please, Starfire, don't look...

She looks.

"Breast...reduction...surgery?"

...Please, I beg of you...just kill me now...

"Raven, please, why do you wish to reduce your breasts?"

...For some reason, I hug my chest.

"Starfire...do you think...um, a certain part of my body seems just a little...big?"

Of course, she smiles cheerfully at me.

"Of course not! You are practically perfect just the way you are!"

"Have you been watching Mary Poppins again?"

"Perhaps." she says after a suspicious pause, "But what I said remains true! Everything appears to be appropriately proportioned!"

"Um, not everything..."

I hug my chest a little tighter as Starfire looks me over.

"I see nothing wrong with your body."

Then she looks back at the computer screen, then at me.

"Raven...do you believe your-"

"I need to go." I try to drone.

I pull up my hood and try to walk away, but Starfire quickly soars in front of me.

"Many of your ways still remain strange to me, but..."

She reaches out and...

She pulls my hood down.

"I believe I have come to learned something of them."

...I believe so, too.

"You wouldn't understand, Starfire."

"Then please, help me to understand."

I could just walk away...

"Maybe next time."

And that's what I do. At least until Terra walks through the door and catches sight of the monitor.

"WHOA! Okay, look! I can explain!"

"What?"

"Seriously, just for fun, I looked that up!"

"What are you-"

"And if I ever did do that-"

"TERRA! What are you talking about?"

...Silence.

We both try to retreat, but Starfire is quick to block us.

"You too, Terra? You, too, which for the reduction of your breasts?"

"_Reduction?!_ What?! And what do mean...too..."

Her eyes shift to me.

"Raven...you..."

"Let us never speak of this again."

"Okay, sure."

But that's just wishful thinking, as Starfire scoops us up effortlessly and drops us off on the couch.

"Please," she pleads as she stares as us with big green eyes, "I wish to understand why you two would reduce your breasts."

I stare downwards, my hands folded in my lap...

And I'm reminded why I want that surgery...

"Um, actually," Terra sheepishly speaks up as she blushes furiously, "I...want to make mine...bigger..."

"But why? Is there something wrong with the current size of your breasts?"

...I swear, I'll die happy if I never hear that word ever again.

"I-I...I don't know! Other girls my age are way bigger than me, and...I...I just want normal sized boobs, that's all..."

I could do without hearing _that_ word, too.

"Are breasts that important?"

"Heck yeah! Size totally matters!"

"Why?"

"I dunno! It's just one of those things. You're still a little girl if you haven't...you know, developed."

Starfire...oh lord...gives her own chest a look over.

"Do you believe my breasts are adequate?"

"Are you kidding, Star? Your rack's rockin'! You, too, Raven! Not that I check them...or look in the mirror and compare..."

...I really wish I wasn't here, right now.

"I don't like them."

"What was that?"

I hug my chest.

"Nothing."

"No, you said something. Didn't she say something, Star?"

...My cheeks are burning...

"I-I said...it's stupid. I fail to see what the big deal is about having a big chest."

I sigh.

"It's...just so idiotic. What do they say about you other than you're a shallow bimbo with self esteem problems?"

I stand up.

"I don't want sex appeal. I just want to be me. Dark, gloomy me."

As I make the long walk to my room, I still hug my chest.

...A pause.

My arms drop to my sides.

My dark, gloomy sides.


	22. Future

Future

...Just a few days ago, the world ended.

And then, in Deus ex Machina fashion, everything went back to normal.

This whole incident left me with far less respect for prophecies. But it also makes me think. My whole life lead up to this, and...everything's back to normal. We've all settle back into our usual routines, like me triggering the Apocalypse never happened. I'm grateful for this miracle, of course, but...

What now?

I see nothing but uncertainty in my future. What happens to me now? I...

I'm...

It's a clear, sunny day outside. It feels downright contrived right now. I think the world is trying a little too hard to bounce back.

I've opened the curtains in my room. Every pervert, stalker, and passerby can see inside my room, now. At a couple hundred feet in the air, I don't think many people will even notice, but this usually makes me feel so vulnerable. Right now, however...it's actually a little comforting to see the sky.

There's some small measure of comfort in knowing exactly when your life is going to end. And all our lives will end, eventually. Everything you see today will someday return to nothingness. I'm just being a realist when I say that. There is no point in fear and tears, because it is inevitable.

It's inevitable...

But when?

...

...Something in me is scratching at the window, longing to get outside. Outside on a sunny day.

Is that you, the innocent little thing from before? The little girl in white? Even after I was all used up, you remained. I remember you. You're a part of me, and I never knew you were there.

And you're still there, aren't you?

Sorry, little girl. I can't let you out to play. I'm too set in my ways. On this fine day, we'll just stare out the window, because we really don't know what else to do.

So I sit on my bed, and stare out the window, and quietly envy the clouds that pass by.

If only it were that simple. Simply drifting along.

...From up here...it's almost like I'm drifting...

...I stand back up. There are things to do. There are always things to do, and time waits for no one. So...

...So...

...Everything in my room is in it's proper place. I've already made my bed. I've already alphabetized my books and doubled checked to make sure I did it right. I've already made certain that very artifact and oddity I own is where it should be.

...Well...I guess there's the wardrobe...

I open up my wardrobe, which in it's current state is really little more than a glorified storage closet. Several identical uniforms and a couple of sets of casual wear are pushed aside to make way for relics of projects past. Paintings of the team I did when Terra was still with us, a sweater I knitted when...

A sweater? I knitted a sweater? And I don't remember doing that small pile of crossword and sudoku puzzles. And...those aren't fan letters, are they?

That's right. I almost forgot I occasionally get fan mail. Honestly, there are better things to write than fan mail addressed to dark little me...

But clearly, I would be lying if I said I didn't keep a few of these letters. A precious few are worth keeping, such as the ones that don't ask me if I'm secretly dating Jinx.

...A lot of people seem to ask me that, for some reason...huh...

Azur above, when did I become such a packrat? The more I dig, the more relics from bygone eras I seem to unearth. Old bookmarks, oversized sunglasses (as if I would ever be out in the sun), a scarf I guess I made during my "knitting phase", a copy of "Black-Eyed Suzie"...

...That doll...

...My doll...

I dangle it by its little cloak, hanging it by an adorable noose as I stare into its lifeless eyes...

Or does it stare into _my_ lifeless eyes?

...Yeah. Weren't these made for...I don't know, orphans or something? It was done without my prior consent, I remember that much.

...Well...I inter you back into the darkness, my little doppelganger.

And deeper still I dig through my surprisingly large wardrobe. Old works of philosophy and mysticism, sketch books scrawled with arcane symbols and bored doodles. What really catches my eye is a worn old notebook with my name on it.

So that's where it went.

I feel a little excited having found this, my long-lost notebook. It's filled with all my old poems and short stories, half of which are painfully corny in hindsight, and...

...I blush...

...Oh, right...

At some point, something possessed me to try my hand at..."mature" literature...

And there are the notes for future chapters...

Wow. I don't remember ever being that..."adventurous".

Somehow, I find the courage to flip through. The next hundred pages...

...Something wells up deep inside me...and I smile a little...

The things I see.

Ah, yes. I remember.

As I read through each page, it all comes back to me. The silly, the sad, the terrible, the beautiful. All these memories I hold dear to my heart are still there, tucked away safely. I feel better knowing they haven't disappeared.

...Hmm?

After the last entry, a single sentence. Post scriptum.

_"Never forget who you are."_

And after that...

The things I feel.

Written by a little girl in white who was always there.

...

...Hmm...

What happens to me now?


	23. Pre

Pre

My name is Raven.

One day, I'm going to destroy the world.

It's what the priestesses tell me. They tell me my father was a demon, and that's why I'm going to destroy the world. I tell them I would never do such a thing, but they told me it was fate. They told me I have powers that are controlled by what I feel, so I need to control my emotions. I try to tell them all the things that keep breaking isn't my fault, but they don't believe me. They say I have to accept my powers.

But why bother if I'm just going to destroy anything, anyway?

I don't want to mediate. I don't want any powers. I want to be with the other children, and with my mother, and...

I want to be normal.

"Raven?"

I open my eyes a little and see Teacher looking at me.

"Are you alright?"

I sniffle and wipe my eyes.

"Yes, Teacher."

"Raven...you know we've had this talk before."

"Yes, Teacher."

I squirm uncomfortably on the cold stone floor of the temple.

They tell me once my training's complete, I can be with the others. So I try and I try, but...

My butt hurts. And it's cold. And I'm bored.

And now my nose itches.

And I want this to be done.

I peek out, ever-so-slightly, and look towards the sky.

"The sun won't set any sooner under your vigil, Raven."

...

Every day is the same. Meditation, studying, meditation, studying. It's boring. I want something different.

"Alright, I believe mediation is over for today."

"Yes, Teacher."

I walk back to my room, like I always do. Like I always do, I stare up at the sky. I watch the clouds drift by...

I want to fly. I want to fly off the cold stone floor and into the soft clouds. I could laugh, and cry, and scream as loud as a I wanted, and nothing bad would happen. There would be nothing to break, no one to tell me to control myself...

There wouldn't be anyone, would there?

...

Maybe I don't want to fly that high.

When I reach my room, I look over my bookshelf, like I always do. I don't know what I want to read. I don't do much in my free time but read, so I finished many of these books. I haven't read the books Mother brought me that much, though. Maybe I'll read the one about the girl who goes to visit her grandmother...

...She's eaten by a wolf.

Maybe I'll read the one about the mermaid princess...

...She can never be with the one she loves.

I pick out St. George and the Dragon. As I read, my mind drifts to the dragon. I wonder why the dragon is the way it is. Maybe it wasn't always bad. Maybe the dragon can't help doing what it does. Maybe...it's just fate...

...The dragon dies at the end.

...

I close the book and look at the cover. My mother gave me this book.

My mother came from a much different world. She doesn't talk much about that world. I ask her why, and she says she doesn't have much good to say. But it's where she found all the books she gave me, so it couldn't be that bad a place.

...A place of misunderstood monsters, and heartbroken princesses, and swallowed up little girls...

...

...Maybe it is a bad place...

I don't want to be here, but there's nowhere to go. It seems no matter where you go, you will be sad. Even if I was normal, would I be any happier?

...My stomach feels like it's in a knot. I take a deep breath and push everything down.

I stare up at the night sky. I want to cry, but I can't. I can't let my emotions go uncontrolled, but that makes me want to cry. I can't cry, and that makes me want to scream. I can't scream, so I push it down. I need to control myself so I don't destroy anything, but I'm going to destroy everything in the end.

Even if I learn to control myself...

Even if I ever become normal...

Even if I cry and scream...

What will happen to me then?


End file.
